


Beneath All the Hate and Despair

by MakenshiCrona



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Crona (Soul Eater), Nonbinary Crona (Soul Eater), Other, Slow Burn, more tags to come, most of the crew shows up but i only tagged the ones that show up the most, mostly canon compliant but an AU of sorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25545970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakenshiCrona/pseuds/MakenshiCrona
Summary: Even after switching sides and making peace with most of Maka's friends, Crona has a rocky transition into Kid's good graces. Things get even more difficult when traces of Medusa crop up. An exploration of two wildly different but curiously similar people that come closer together.
Relationships: Crona/Death the Kid, Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans
Comments: 21
Kudos: 97





	1. Shiny, Gilded Prologue

Crona sat on the cold stone floor in the corner of their new room rather than use the bed on the opposite side of them, trying to console themself with their comfortable habit despite the uncomfortable floor. They tightened their legs to their chest and wondered how they ended up here in this position, in this room, in this _building_.

A sigh escaped their lips, echoing against the empty stone walls, and coming back to their ears. They were amazed at how much could change in the course of only a couple of hours. In the shortest amount of time so much had happened: Maka became their friend, Medusa was dead, the Kishin had revived, and now the world was under the threat of his madness. And here they were in one of the stone cells that lay beneath DWMA.

Crona remembered how startled they were when they heard footsteps behind them in the cavern where they battled Maka, all alone after Maka and Soul left. It had already been several minutes since Ragnarok had finally dissolved back into their spine, finally bored of their quarrel, and so Crona found themself just...waiting. For what, they didn’t know. But they’d had enough experience with waiting to have the patience for whatever it was.

With a sigh, Crona sat on the rubble-filled floor. Was it Medusa who was going to come and get them? Or—maybe they shouldn’t hope too much—Maka?

Almost in response to their question, they heard the faint sound of footsteps behind them, getting louder every second. But they weren’t at all like the soft pattering of Medusa’s footsteps. Anxious, Crona spun around to the approaching noise and shakily stumbled up to their feet. There was a man a few meters away, each footstep taken in long strides, his sneakers squeaking lightly on the floor.

The most notable thing about this man was his blue skin. The second most notable trait of this man were the bulky muscles residing underneath said blue skin and his intimidatingly tall stature. He had looked around briefly, and when his gaze had finally rested on Crona, went toward them decidedly, as if he'd found something he was looking for.

Panic welled up in Crona’s chest at his approach and looked around wildly, hoping for Maka or Medusa or someone who could tell them what they were supposed to do. But there wasn’t anyone around to tell them how to deal with this, so all Crona could do was freeze.

When he finally appeared in front of them, he gruffly asked, "You the Demon Sword?"

Crona appraised the man fearfully for several seconds before nodding hesitantly. This man was… deeply unsettling, and everything about him churned fear into Crona’s gut. After giving him the answer he was apparently hoping for, he nodded and signaled for them to follow him.

"Come on," he told them, his back already turning to head down the direction he had just come from.

Hesitation filled them. What should they do? What would happen if they followed? Crona would know if this was someone that Medusa had sent, so did that mean this man was on Maka’s side? _Should_ Crona follow if this man was on Maka’s side? Just because Maka doesn’t want them dead anymore doesn’t mean that sentiment is shared by everyone else now. And what would Medusa do to them if she found out? 

Crona’s feet stood frozen to the floor. Their eyes flashed up and met the expectant look of the scary man in front of them, and Crona felt even more stuck in their position. God, he was creepy. Maybe they’d better just wait here for when Maka comes back. Or...maybe it was too presumptuous to think she’d come back through this way to get them. And surely she had enough on her plate if all the rumbling and earth shaking Crona experienced earlier was any indication. So maybe they should wait until Medusa comes back. Whoever comes first.

Seeing their hesitation, the strange scary man’s intimidating stature relaxed, and he hunched over until their eyes were at the same level.

"Don't worry," though he spoke low, his deep voice sounded loud in the empty room, "We're not going to hurt you."

His words were supposed to be comforting, Crona could tell, but the effect was lost with his voice echoing in the space around them and those cloudy eyes staring deep into theirs. But… if Crona followed him, that meant that they could be on Maka’s side for real, right? There’s no way that Crona was able to get out of Medusa’s clutches of their own volition. Right. This was the escort they have, so they should take it. To see Maka again, Crona resolved. Crona’s ice-block body thawed just enough to nod in a silent agreement to follow.

Crona kept their distance as they followed behind the towering blue man, measuring out a length where they would have enough time to react and summon Ragnarok should he suddenly turn his heel and lunge for an attack. But for now, all seemed peaceful on their uncomfortably quiet journey. Crona was fine without any talk between them. They would probably only be able to mumble out short answers anyway, but the atmosphere in the air as they trekked through the battle-scarred underbelly of the school was tense. Growing increasingly anxious with the lingering dead silence between them and the scary man, Crona prompted Ragnarok into a mental conversation.

 _“Where do you think he's taking us?”_ they asked.

 _“Probably to a torture chamber or something.”_ Ragnarok responded blandly.

Crona swallowed, “ _Ragnarok… Don't say that. It'll only make me paranoid.”_

 _“And I'll bet he'll chain you to the wall and starve you. Then he'll slowly rip your limbs off, one by one.”_ Ragnarok teased.

The suggestion was too exaggerated to qualify as a genuine threat, but Crona couldn’t help but wonder if there was a semblance of truth behind it. Punishment for all their actions in the quest to become a Kishin, unwilling or not, was certainly not off the table.

 _“Oooh, and I'll bet he'd want to watch you cry and plead, too. And as you scream and he rips you apart, he'll order you to apologize for killing all those innocent people and hurting the students here at DWMA. Then he'll bring that chick Maka and she'll tell you she hates you for hurting that jerky partner of hers.”_ Ragnarok cackled.

Something acidic churned in Crona’s stomach. That sounded closer to what would happen. Imagining Maka's hateful glare pierced a horrible feeling through their chest. They had done such horrible things— to innocent people, to Maka’s _partner_ — How could she forgive them? Why did she offer to be their friend? Was it just in the heat of battle that she decided to offer friendship, so she could get away from the fight and go onto what was more important? Tears budded at the edges of their eyes as doubt started to rush through their body.

Just as they were about to spiral further down that train of thought, Crona was brought out of their head by the squeak of the blue man’s shoes stopping abruptly up ahead. Lifting their eyes from the ground, Crona saw his stiff back and the slight turn of his head in their direction. Before Crona’s hand could twitch to call their blade, he spoke.

"You may want to cover your eyes." He suggested quietly.

Instinctively, Crona’s eyes instead swept over the room to look for what he was referring to. The initial confusion they felt shifted almost immediately into realization as their eyes landed on the body lying motionless on the ground. Their mother’s body was in full display in the middle of the spacious hallway, torn in two, blood pooled under her torso and splattered across her face. Any other details were lost on Crona as their vision unfocused, eyes still directed towards the scene but unable to drink anything more in. They found themselves unable to move. Medusa was… dead? Well, she would have to be if Crona wanted to surrender their quest of becoming a Kishin. But, despite that fact and despite the cruelty of living under Medusa’s care, the grizzly scene in front of them brought no relief. Their mother was dead. Murdered, for a lack of a better word, and her broken body was in front of them. It felt…unreal. It wasn’t just because she was their mother that the reality of her death felt so jarring, but Medusa had always felt so invincible to them. Seeing her broken body on the floor was terrifying. _Is that what they were going to do to them?_

Crona was brought out their haze by an anxious hitch in their breath and noticed the uncomfortable twitching that trembled through them and the uneven breaths they were taking. Crona’s eyes finally broke away and they briefly met the gaze of the blue man who sheepishly slid his eyes away.

 _That’s not what they’ll do, right? That’s not what they’ll do to me right?_ Crona searched for Ragnarok. As much as he was mean and loved to tease when it came to questions as heavy as that, he usually gave an honest answer.

For once, he was eerily silent.

The man waiting in the distance in front of them was patient, though, occasionally looking in their direction before looking away again in consideration. Eventually, after a couple more silent moments, Crona shuffled slowly forward and he turned away and began to escort again.

No, Crona thought to themself, she died in a battle. Losing a battle is always messy. Even if Crona were punished, it wouldn’t be like that. 

_Because I wouldn’t put up a fight._

With all the uncertainty and questions building up, Crona finally bit the bullet and asked the question.

"Wh…where are we…?"

The man answered even though Crona couldn’t finish the question, "We're going to Lord Death’s Room."

The grip they had on their arm tightened like a vice.

“Lord Death isn’t going to hurt you, though, he just wants to talk.” The man added as Crona was halfway to accepting their fate.

Crona gave a soft nod, even though he couldn’t see them. For right now, they’ll believe it. As best as they can anyway. The shivers running through their body haven’t stopped yet.

Once they entered the ground level, Crona found that they were walking through the unsettlingly empty hallways of DWMA. It felt unfamiliar and wrong to be inside of enemy territory. The walk through the building was largely unremarkable until the two were climbing a set of stairs and were faced with a wide window sitting at the top of it. The blue man’s stride hadn’t wavered walking past it, but Crona stopped in their path and turned to look outside. A dark red sky loomed above Lord Death City, the clouds thick and dark, and the city below was battered and devastated.

Noticing that Crona had stopped, the blue man turned and realized that they hadn’t seen what had become of the outside yet.

“I don’t know if you got the news or not,” he sighed, “but Medusa got what she wanted.”

Crona didn’t know how to respond.

“Come on, let’s get going.” he said, and then he continued forward.

Crona broke away from the window and followed.

The rest of the journey was quiet, save for their footsteps bouncing on the walls. They finally reached a dead end with two grand doors looming over them. The blue man raised one of the heavy skull knockers and brought it against the door. This had to be Lord Death’s room.

"Sir? May I come in?"

"Sid? Yes, you may come in." the grim voice was muffled by the closed door.

Sid grabbed one of the large brass handles and tugged. The thick door creaked as it opened and revealed a bright room. Crona’s eyes squinted as they adjusted to the startling blue of the ceiling above them. A long pathway stretched in front of them, lined with long pillars that held guillotines above their heads as they walked the trail. Crona kept a wary eye on the blades as they and Sid followed the path to the center of the room where a tall dark figure had his back facing them. A large mirror loomed in front of him, the glass feeding back an overview of Death City instead of a reflection, the smoky red sky casting it in shadow. The figure shifted slightly once the two stopped behind him.

"Do you have the Demon Blade?” he asked.

"Right here, sir." Sid replied.

The black figure turned to them and it revealed how battle-torn the reaper was. Tattered robes fluttered in the soft breeze that pulled through the room, and his white mask was broken and smeared with dust.

Lord Death brightened at the sight of them and his form straightened with a bounce.

"Ah, hello, child!" he exclaimed cheerfully.

Taken aback by the drastic tonal stift, Crona couldn’t get their mouth to form a response.

Lord Death’s posture and voice softened at the obvious panic racking through the teen in front of him, "Don't worry, don’t worry! I won’t hurt you... Sid, a moment?"

“Right.” Sid replied, and he turned away to allow them privacy.

Crona watched as Sid left the room, not wanting to meet the reaper’s face yet. After the door shut behind Sid with a low _thud_ , Crona could feel Lord Death's patient gaze on them. They turned back to him slowly, keeping their eyes on the ground, and shuffled their feet.

“I am glad that you’ve been able to hold on so strongly against Medusa’s efforts to warp you.” Lord Death praised softly.

Crona’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and their eyes lifted from the ground to the broken mask in front of them, “How… how did you know?”

Lord Death swayed casually with his response, “Well! Professor Stein reported that he noticed the difference in your soul after he defeated Medusa!”

“Oh…” Flashes of Medusa’s dead body revisited them.

“It is greatly commendable.” Lord Death complimented again, interrupting their flashback, “That is the sort of strength that I look forward to having in the soul of a DMWA student.”

“Look… forward to?”

"Yes! I would love to see you readjust to life as a citizen of Death City and a student here at DWMA!" Lord Death cheered.

Silence hung in the air for a moment as Crona processed the words. And then all at once the reality of what Lord Death was offering processed in their mind. 

“I’m—huh?”

An… actual student of DWMA? Here Crona was thinking that Lord Death would be so merciful as to make them a ward of the school as a prisoner, but to extend his mercy so far as to offer them a position as a student was…

“…really?” doubt colored Crona’s small voice.

“Yup!”

More silence followed as Crona waited for Lord Death to pull the rug out from under their feet and reveal that he was joking. But all he did was stand there patiently. After a few unsuccessful croaks, Crona was finally able to push something out to respond.

"I…I think I would like to be here… at DWMA."

"Ah, it will be wonderful!" Lord Death sang, but then he abruptly leaned closer to them and his voice dropped low as though he were telling a secret, "Though, that does mean you will have to give up all of your human souls."

Crona recoiled instinctually, but stuttered out in agreement, “O-of course, Lord Death!”

Crona felt the back of their spine tingle and Ragnarok burst out to provide his two cents.

"And you said that without consulting me!" Ragnarok shouted, "There's no way am I going to give them up! Then I'd be just as worthless as this little idiot! Do you see how small I already am after what the twin-tailed kid did? There's no way I'm gonna—"

"We need to." Crona stated sternly, “Or else I can’t be a student here.”

"And why would I care about that!"

“It really is unfortunate that you disagree, but if that is the Demon Sword’s choice, you must know that you really are powerless in this situation, hmm? Not only are they your meister, but you have the curious condition of being attached.”

“ _First of all!_ Crona is _not_ the Demon Sword, _I am_ !! _Second of all—”_

Ragnarok sputtered at him for several seconds in anger, but he couldn’t find another argument so he just resorted to steaming by himself quietly, “Fine, but know that the moment this string bean dies from how wimpy I’ll be in the future, I demand to have all of myself returned and turned back to normal. I refuse to die out in such a pathetic way.”

“Oh, my apologies, I will use the right names from now on. And I will keep note of your request, do not worry.” Lord Death responded.

"So, umm,” Crona began awkwardly, breaking the discussion about the extraction of Ragnarok following their untimely death, “h-how do you take the human souls?"

"It's quite simple actually. Bring the Demon Sword out in his weapon form, please.”

Crona nodded and immediately felt the familiar weight of the sword in their hand. Lord Death held his hand out, motioning for them to give him the weapon. Warily, Crona put the blade in Lord Death’s outstretched hand, feeling uncomfortably naked without Ragnarok in their possession.

Lord Death held the sword away from him and shook violently, a startled cry leaving the sword at the sudden motion. Several floating blue human souls popped into existence, scattered in the area around them. As the reaper shook the sword wildly, agitated yelps coming from the mouth at the hilt, more souls rushed forth. This process lasted an uncomfortably long time with Ragnarok yelping the whole way, barely managing to yell strangled curses in between. After an excruciatingly awkward several minutes, Lord Death had finished manhandling the sword, and five red kishin egg souls stood out from all the blue littered around them.

With a satisfied hum, Lord Death handed back the sword and the five kishin souls to Crona. Ragnarok’s blade was noticeably thinner and his weight noticeably lighter, and after quickly swallowing the red souls, he immediately vanished inside of Crona. They wobbled drunkenly and tried to find their balance as Ragnarok's nausea from the experience transferred over to them.

"See?" Lord Death teased, "That was quite simple, wasn't it?"

"Umm, yeah." Crona replied dizzily, trying to blink away the stars blocking their vision.

"Well then, I'll get rid of these later!" Lord Death sang motioning toward the floating blue orbs, "Now that the human souls have been taken away, you are now compatible to attend DWMA!"

Lord Death immediately turned back to his mirror and wrote numbers onto its surface with his finger. The mirror glowed as it dialed a tone and ripples disturbed its surface. Sid appeared on the other side.

"Yes, Lord Death?"

"You may escort them now, Sid."

"I'll be right there!" Sid answered with a salute before disappearing.

Crona was barely able to register their confusion before a knock was heard immediately at the doors of the room. Sid must have been waiting right outside the whole time.

"Come in!” Lord Death welcomed.

Once Sid made his way up to them, he asked, “Number 27, right, sir?”

"Mmhm!” Lord Death hummed happily and turned to look at Crona, “Our room number 27 will be your new home starting now, courtesy of DWMA!"

Crona stood frozen in shock, mouth dropping open, before immediately closing it because the throbbing nausea that still lingered threatened to do something. They were going to have a new home? They were really truly being _that_ nice to them?

“I-I, y-you, really? I can—Medusa has a—there’s a place for me to stay, you don’t have to give—you’ve already been s-so nice to me already, if you do more I won’t know how to deal with it, it’s too much.” Crona’s words stumbled out.

“Ah, yes, that may be true, but we don’t want you living all alone now that Medusa is gone!” Lord Death answered, “And we _are_ going to want to investigate Medusa’s real residence, and that would be uncomfortable for everyone if you were still living there!”

That made sense.

“I—uhm, okay. Thank you…”

Lord Death chuckled, “Of course!”

“If you would, sir,” Sid suddenly spoke up, “May I talk to you for a moment?”

Lord Death tilted his head curiously, “Of course. Uhm, Crona is it? Could you wait outside the door for Sid, please. He will be there momentarily to take you to your room."

Crona nodded and exited the room quickly.

* * *

Lord Death and Sid watched the small figure recede until they were successfully out of earshot.

Lord Death turned to Sid but didn’t get a word out before he was interrupted, "I'm sorry to talk before you, sir, but are you sure about not having the Demon Sword board with Maka? She’s the one who was able to bring them to their senses, it seems like it would make sense to keep them with the person that was able to reach them. We didn’t get to discuss this fully before you asked me to go grab them, and I am curious about your decision.”

"I'm sure Maka would love to take them in, but she is going to be very busy in these trying times, what with Asura reviving and all. I am taking into consideration that she and Soul may not want a new member in their household after such a stressful experience." Lord Death stated.

Sid’s heavy brow furrowed, ”Somehow I don’t think that’s your real reason.”

Lord Death hung his head and blew out an airy sigh, “Oh, you saw through me too easily.”

“I know just as well as you do how risky this is.” Sid said.

Lord Death regarded the man in front of him grimly, “There’s no arguing that Crona has an impressive soul. A child that can retain themself that strongly under the wing of someone like Medusa has amazing potential. But I’d be foolish to not invest in a little precaution.”

Sid crossed his arms and let out a slow sigh, “And you think having them here is better precaution than keeping them with Maka? She has soul perception. Out of anyone, she’d be the fastest to know if they were headed downhill again.”

“Aside from me.” Lord Death reminded, “Maka has shown she has incredible influence over their soul, but with Asura released, their sanity is safer in DWMA where my presence is strongest.” 

“I see…” Sid replied.

“Perhaps if they show strong progress we can change the arrangements. But for now, I’d like to keep them under my supervision.”

* * *

After several minutes of waiting and Ragnarok whining, the door creaked open and Sid stepped outside. His eyes found Crona standing timidly off to the side and jutted his head in a motion for them to follow before walking down the hall.

As they were walking, Crona peered into some of the empty classrooms and wondered which one they would be in. After Crona had gotten to peer into a dozen or so classrooms, Sid cleared his throat and Crona set all their attention back to him. Crona remembered, when their chest clenched up, how uncomfortable this man made them feel.

“You will be attending part-time classes next week after most people have gotten their bearings. Full-time classes won’t be available for a while since the staff will be busy trying to repair Death City with most of their time."

Sid pointed to a room to the left of them, "This will be your new classroom in a few days. Professor Stein teaches that class, so you'd better hope you have a strong stomach."

"In the same hall as your classroom, there is a bulletin board filled with missions." They were walking down a flight of stairs now, but it didn't slow down Sid. "When you take a mission, you go to the location it tells you, and take the Kishin egg's soul." He explained.

Sid kept explaining more and more about the school the more they walked through its map, filling the quiet with his tour. Eventually, they reached a hall very different from the others. The following corridors were all stone, and they were only lit by the torches lining their walls. Sid’s voice bounced loudly against the stone as he continued with his lecture. Crona followed Sid carefully as they took the set of stairs that led deeper into the school.

Sid stopped in front of a steel metal door that had a 27 stenciled onto the surface and turned to them, opening it wide and gestured inside. Crona peered inside the room. A window was nestled close to the ceiling and looked out to the deep red sky above, there was a bed pressed up against the wall, a dresser on the opposite wall, and a sink with a small mirror above it.

"I know it's not much," Sid said from behind them, "but it's better than nothing... Anyway, I'll leave."

Crona nodded without saying a word and watched Sid leave the room. When he was gone, they ignored the bed and sat in the corner. Some habits are hard to break. Crona tried to find a comfortable position on the hard ground and looked up at the window to stare at the sky. They gazed at the sky and idly daydreamed about going to school with Maka and eventually living a normal life, leaving the past of what they had done behind them. It was a good, wholesome daydream, but they knew it would be a hard one to fulfill. With a small yawn, Crona decided that they should go to sleep, finally feeling how worn their body was after the night’s events. Crona glanced pensively at the bed before resolutely staying in the corner, curling tightly into a ball.

Close to dozing off, Crona realized curiously that Ragnarok hadn't said a word since they were at Lord Death's office.

 _“Lord Death is very generous.”_ Crona probed.

They felt him stir lazily, _“Tch. So you think, but this is a cell room. He said he’d accept you as a student, but I think he’s really just keeping you prisoner for all the bad things you’ve done.”_

 _“I don’t think that’s what’s happening.”_ Crona disagreed, even though they could tell that his accusation was empty. They both knew this was all too much for Lord Death to just keep them prisoner. They really were going to be a student at DWMA.

_“Believe what you want to believe, moron.”_

Ragnarok faded from consciousness after that, leaving Crona alone with their thoughts. That was a lot quieter of a conversation than they expected from him. They were expecting a rant and rave that would last hours, but now they were surprisingly alone in this quiet room.

Crona tightened their legs to their chest. They couldn’t help but have their thoughts swarmed. Swimming through their head were memories and anxieties about what had happened in this short day. It felt like it could be a dream. How they ended up here in this position, in this room, in this _building._ With a sigh, Crona remembered everything at a dizzying speed before they took a steadying breath to stop the whirlwind going through their mind. Worn out and breath deepening, they began to lull themselves to sleep, pushing out everything that would keep them awake. The battle with Maka, her offer of friendship, Medusa’s dead body, the revival, the future of becoming a student at DWMA, their new residence. Everything slowed down and drifted away, and they fell into a merciful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter seems weak in comparison to the stuff I’ve written from scratch, but I guess that’s expected when you’re writing on top of a 10 year old document. Second chapter scheduled for Friday!


	2. That's a Tough IceBreaker to Beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's your go-to icebreaker? Hopefully it's not Kid's.

“Soul! Stop playing catch with the resource bags!”

Maka finished tying the bag she was working on and shot Soul a berating look. She, Soul, Black Star, and Tsubaki were seated in Dr. Stein’s classroom with supplies spread out in front of them. They were  _ supposed  _ to put together bags with some essential supplies for displaced residents of Death City, but Soul was tossing them to Black Star in a game of catch that lasted five minutes too many.

Soul leaned back in his chair and gave her a lazy look, “We’ve been doing this for an hour now. And we did it for a lot more hours yesterday. We’re due for a little br—”

Black Star interrupted Soul’s response by throwing a surprise attack and landed a solid hit to his face.

“OI!” Soul cried angrily and stood up from his seat, “That was an obvious timeout!”

Black Star laughed obnoxiously and Maka could only watch as Soul wound his arm back and pitched another resource bag in the ninja’s direction. Black Star quickly dodged it and the bag ended up shooting two beakers off of Professor Stein’s desk and sent them crashing to the ground.

“Soul!” Maka scolded.

"Ha, ha, ha! You missed! You suck at throwing, Soul! There's no way you can get me, the man who will transcend god!" Black Star boasted.

"For someone who let the Kishin revive, I wouldn't say that." A voice from the doorway stated solemnly.

The air in the room dropped to an icy-cold.

Standing at the threshold were Death the Kid and the Thompson sisters. They had the job of handing out the resource bags to the citizens of Death City and had come back to pick up their next round. 

"No need for the low blow, Kid." Black Star muttered tersely, hands clenching at his side.

The toll of the revival was heavy on Black Star’s shoulders, but it had a crushing weight on Death the Kid. While Black Star tried to cover his regret with overt boisterousness, Death the Kid compensated by having enough grief for the two of them.

Tsubaki reached out to touch Black Star’s shoulder and tried to reassure him, "Black Star, you know it's not your fault, it was just a mistake."

He swatted her arm away and replied in a gruff voice, "Don't try to comfort me, Tsubaki. I need to take full responsibility for my actions if I ever want to be a god."

Tsubaki looked hurt, but just set her eyes on the ground. An uncomfortable silence lingered in the air. Eventually, Maka stood and walked over to where the beakers had broken and bent down to start picking up the shards of glass, trying not to cut herself.

"We should pick this up," she said trying to break the silence, "Soul."

He turned to her and nodded, walking over to help her pick up the glass.

Death the Kid sighed, "I'll go get a bag for you to put the glass in. And a broom if I find one.”

Once he had walked down the hall and disappeared, everyone else in the room shared knowing looks. All of them held a healthy concern for how Death the Kid was doing. Two days passed since everything had gone to hell. While the sky was still coated in a thick cloud of red dust and an overall feeling of foreboding hung over everyone, most people had started to dust their clothes off and try to regain a sense of normalcy in the aftermath of what happened. But Death the Kid wasn’t coping so well. 

Every time the others saw him, he held a constant furrow to his brow and his hands were stuck in a repetitive pattern of clenching and unclenching. When he spoke it was short and curt, and when he wasn’t speaking he had the tendency to look in an empty direction and frown, deep in thought. His anxious tics had gone into overdrive too. The incessant nitpicking for things to be in order happened more frequently. He didn’t have any more of his obvious outbursts about asymmetry, but they were replaced by feverish, silent dialogues he held with himself. The evidence of these quiet internal battles manifested in his darting eyes and quiet mutterings. 

Tsubaki brought her hands up to her chin, "He's really been hit hard by this hasn't he?"

Black Star folded his arms over his chest, "I'm sure Kid will get better eventually." 

He grit his teeth and added, "He is a god after all."

Maka frowned, gingerly handling the shards, “We can’t just expect Kid to get better all by himself. We have to give him support.”

Soul took Maka’s share of glass to spare her hands, “I agree with Maka. We can’t do much, but Kid so far doesn’t seem the type to deal with things well on his own.”

“Kid isn’t very good at making himself feel better. ” Liz confirmed.

“...But even when we talk to him, he doesn’t pay attention.” Patty provided.

The burden Death the Kid’s gloom had was apparent in the two sisters. Liz looked weary. She had tired eyes and a glum disposition that was only enhanced by her unstraightened hair and make-up free face. Patty stood beside her, uncharacteristically quiet and meek.

"I don't know what to do." Liz said gnawing on her knuckle, "Kid is like a brother to Patty and me. It hurts to see him tear himself up."

"Am I coming in on a private conversation?" a monotone voice asked.

Reappearing in the doorway was Death the Kid with a trash bag held in one fist and a broom in the other. He walked in tight-lipped silence over to Maka to hand her the tools since Soul had taken the burden of the shattered beakers.

"Kid…" Tsubaki started.

"I'd appreciate it if all of my friends didn't resort to talking behind my back the moment I leave a room." Death the Kid glowered, stepping away from Maka to take a position away from them all.

“Kid, we can tell that you’ve been hit really hard—” Maka began.

“I don’t see how that is surprising.” Death the Kid interrupted, “This situation is a worst-case scenario that we had a mission to prevent.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it now.” Soul groaned while dropping the glass into the trash bag, “The best we can do is try to move forward.”

“Me regarding this situation with the severity it deserves has nothing to do with  _ moving forward _ .” Death the Kid bit back.

“You can acknowledge how bad everything is without it breaking you down like this, Kid.” Liz supplied.

Death the Kid rubbed at his temple, “It is a  _ disservice  _ for me to act like nothing is wrong when—”

"We're worried about you." Party interjected softly.

Death the Kid regarded Patty. Her shoulders were drawn in, eyebrows pulled up sadly, and her eyes shone with telltale wetness. His rigid shoulders relaxed with a long sigh.

"I understand that you all are concerned. But please also understand that…" Death the Kid took a steadying breath, "this failure is something that would fully be my responsibility once I take my father's place."

"One day a matter like this will be entirely my responsibility to fix, and it feels like I'm already shirking my responsibilities if I try to go about like nothing's wrong." His hand clenched into a fist and he added under his breath, "Especially since father has refused to allow me entry to the discussions going on surrounding the next calls to action."

Everyone in the room was quiet for a moment before Liz reached out to touch his arm, "I know that your grim reaper responsibilities are important to you, but this isn't  _ your _ responsibility. It's your dad's right now."

"I think she's right, Kid." Tsubaki agreed, "You're still a young grim reaper. It seems Lord Death is asking you to not worry by keeping you from seeing what’s happening behind the scenes right now.”

"But he should be!" Death the Kid burst angrily.

Tsubaki quieted and Death the Kid composed himself again shamefully, "I mean to say… if my father wants to properly prepare me to take his place, I should be at his side while he solves this. This is the most extreme issue that he or I could face. Why wouldn't he try to educate me on how to handle this unless he already thinks I've failed as his successor?" 

Patty walked up to Death the Kid and slinked her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his shoulder, “You aren’t a failure, Kid.”

Death the Kid looked around at all of the worried eyes concentrated on him and then down at the girl clinging to him. He raised a hesitant arm and placed it around Patty’s shoulder. 

“I appreciate all of the concern each of you has for me.” Death the Kid said, “But it’s going to take a while for me to come to terms with this. I hope you can have patience with me”.

Death the Kid turned to Black Star, "Black Star, I'm sorry for my earlier rudeness. That was out of hand."

Black Star huffed at the apology and turned away indifferently, "Yeah, okay." 

Death the Kid brushed off Black Star’s cold shoulder response and then turned to the other meister in the room, “Oh, and Maka? Soul? My father contacted me while I was out and told me that he wants to speak to you both in his office.” 

“Oh!” Maka responded in surprise, “I forgot that there aren’t any mirrors in here. We’ll head out right away.”

He nodded at her response, “Now if you’ll excuse us.”

Death the Kid pulled himself out of Patty’s embrace and picked up a box dedicated to completed resource bags, “We should head out to distribute this next round.”

.

Halfway down the hall, Death the Kid couldn’t help but fall into thought despite Liz and Patty’s attempt at casual conversation. The box in his hands grew heavier with every step he took, and it was all he could do to keep it aloft.

Finally, Liz’s voice cut through his daze, “Kid!” 

He looked up to see both of the sisters staring at him, “Uhm, yes?”

“You walked past the turn we needed to take.” Patty explained, pointing behind them to the entrance of the hallway they were supposed to turn down.

“See, you’re doing it again.” Liz sighed in exasperation, “This is what we were talking about just a few minutes ago!”

“Sorry.” Death the Kid apologized, scrunching his eyebrows together.

“Hey, look,” Liz edited, embarrassed, “I’m not trying to guilt you or anything. You explained what you’ve been thinking. I just—you  _ do _ see why we’re worried right?”

Death the Kid nodded, “I do. It’s distressing to see your friends hurt.”

Liz took the sagging box from Death the Kid’s hold, “Just—oomph—make sure you’re not taking it too far, okay? I get that you need your time, but…”

“...Don’t keep it all inside.” Patty finished.

“I—I think I need to go clear my head.” Death the Kid responded. 

“What?” Liz reacted.

“Huh?” Patty followed up.

“Kid!” Liz cried, “That’s the opposite of what we’re asking from you!”

“I know.” Death the Kid replied guiltily, “And I will try to be more open going forward. However, right now, I think I need to have some time by myself.”

“If…that’s what you need, Kid.” Patty drooped.

Liz’s face screwed up in conflict, “Just—urgh—okay. Whatever you think you need the most.”

“Thank you.” Death the Kid gave an appreciative nod and turned to walk away.

“But don’t you dare use this to try and isolate yourself more!” Liz threatened at his retreating back.

“I don’t intend to.” He called back.

* * *

Crona lifted their head from their arms. Opening their eyes slowly, they waited until their blurry vision settled into focus. 

It was a cold, chilly morning. At least, they assumed that it was morning. The light that filtered through their small window was still that hazy red, so there was no way to really tell what time it could be. Taking a deep breath, Crona uncurled themselves from their ball and rolled their sore muscles. After they had stretched out all the tightness in their body, they looked around blearily at their room to observe the characteristics that had been there for the past two days. Loose pebbles in the same corners, wire-cracks that ran through the walls, and spiderwebs nestled into the top corner of the ceiling. 

These observations were cut short by sudden, impatient prodding at their face, “Oi! I’m hungry!” 

Crona buried their head into their arms again with a sigh, “I don’t know if the cafeteria is open right now. I don’t know what time it is.”

Ragnarok responded by tugging at their hair, “And? Just go over and find out!”

“But what if there are a lot of people? I don’t like when they all look at me...”

“You’ve used that excuse too many times now! I don’t care anymore!” Ragnarok gripped, “And the only reason why everyone was looking was because that zombie bastard escorted you the first time!”

Crona tried to ignore the pleading twists in their stomach. Sid had escorted them to the cafeteria the morning after Crona was given their room, and they were able to have a fulfilling meal and walk away with rations that gave them a few more meager snacks. But those had since run out, and Crona was anxious to return to the cafeteria and brave the public all by themself.

“St-still.” Was all they could muster for a reply.

“Still, nothing! You’ve gotta get over it because if you don’t you’re gonna starve us  _ both  _ to death!”

Crona chewed on their lip guiltily before finding enough resolve to prepare to leave their room, “Okay… you’re right.”

“Damn right I am!” Ragnarok agreed, “Now let’s go.”

* * *

“Crona’s here?!”

“Yes, yes! They now have a residence in one of the rooms below DWMA.”

Lord Death had called her and Soul to his room to curiously ask about their experience with Crona those two nights ago, and Maka could only guess that his reference to Crona meant that he had news on them. But she didn’t think that the news would be this great!

“Oh, Lord Death!” Maka gasped, “Why didn’t you ask for them to house with me? I would have been happy to have them!”

Concerned had gnawed at her stomach since that night. After Maka regained consciousness from the nasty fall she took after clasping onto one of the Kishin’s scarves, she had convinced Soul to take her back to the catacombs of DWMA to go and look for Crona, despite her wobbly steps and croaking voice. When they hadn’t found them after an hour of looking, Soul eventually called out how exhausted Maka still was and dragged her away from the scene, telling her that they could look again after she’s rested more. Maka had initially protested, but Soul stated that they would probably be more successful in finding Crona if she weren’t dead on her feet, and Maka reluctantly relented. When they went back the following morning, Maka tried her damnedest with her soul finder to track Crona, but couldn’t. Maka regrettably figured that Crona was probably scooped up by the rest of Medusa’s crew.

Death chuckled, “Ah, Maka, I felt that you already had so much on your plate! Besides, as I recall, you only have a two-resident apartment.”

“That’s a good point, Maka.” Soul said, “You wouldn’t want to keep them on the couch, would you?”

“Of course not!” she huffed, “But they could sleep in my bed! I think it would be nice!”

“You’d share a room?” Soul asked.

“Well, yeah!” Maka supplied before muttering, “It’s not like you don’t share your room with Blair all the time…”

“Th-that’s not because I want to!” He spluttered, face reddening.

“But it’s not like you kick her out!”

“Ahem….” Maka and Soul snapped back to attention, “I brought you two here because I was wanting your opinion on something~! Most of the people here at DWMA do not know about Crona’s previous status as a kishin egg, so there is no need to introduce them to the school at mass, however it will take some explaining for the people in your friend group, yes? I do not know if you’ve spoken to them regarding Crona, but I wanted to know if I should introduce them as a new student to the school or if you wanted to!”

“I will go ahead and introduce them to everyone, Lord Death!” Maka volunteered eagerly.

“Good then!” Death responded, “Now I don’t have to worry about it!”

Maka and Soul bade Death goodbye and headed down the long stretch of pathway that led out of his room. Maka had a bounce in her step, her clasped hands swinging behind her back, and a small tune hummed in her throat as she thought about how exactly she was going to introduce Crona to the rest of the group. Maka hadn’t told them anyone else about Crona yet since everyone was still recovering. And because of Crona’s disappearance, Maka didn’t have the heart to bring it up if they were gone.

“Hey, do you think it’s the best idea for you to introduce them?” Soul spoke out once they left the Lord Death’s room, “I didn’t want to oppose you in front of Lord Death or anything, but I would have let him handle it.”

“It will be hard to explain everything, just because everyone else hasn’t experienced a soul resonance like that before.” Maka admitted, “But I think I’ll be able to convey it well enough for them to understand.”

Soul shrugged, “So long as you’re sure.”

“I am!” Maka responded brightly, “I just need to get everyone in the same room.”

* * *

Death the Kid was grateful for how grandiose DWMA was because he had paced the halls endlessly for the past half hour. He was having a hard time, feeling both agitated and flattered that his friends had remarked on his recent behavior. He found it reassuring that he had somehow found a group of friends that genuinely cared about his well being and were willing to confront him about it, but he also found it insultingly ignorant that they couldn’t understand the severity of the situation at hand. He knows that each of them was just trying to cope by going about as normal. He knows that each of them was more devastated than the average populous because this failure was on  _ all  _ of their hands. Even if he and Black Star were the main offenders, everyone else felt the consequence of having their mission fall through. He knew that they were trying to get by like normal because there was nothing they could do.

But he  _ could. _

That was the reason for his whole existence. 

As much as he understood their lines of reasoning, they could never understand  _ his _ . How could they? As much as he could blend in with them on a day to day basis, he was still a grim reaper and they were human. 

Anxieties began swimming around in his head again. He was so  _ useless _ . How could he have let the Kishin revive on his hands? His father put his trust in him, and he squandered it, crushed it under his heel like a despicable bug. Of  _ course _ his father didn’t want him in the decision room. Even as an observer he’s sure he’d just ruin everything because he’s deplorable, pitiful, disgraceful, shameful—

Death the Kid’s hurried pace took him around a corner, and the frantic doubts he was mumbling into his hand cut short as he skid to a stop. There, down at the end of the hallway he was in, was an unpleasantly familiar figure. Alerted by the squeak of his shoes stopping on the tile, said figure looked up in his direction. 

Lanky and quiet, the Demon Sword stood a brief distance away from him, their figure a dark silhouette against the red sky that was framed by the large window at the end of the corridor. The air was tense and quiet for a moment as Kid ran calculations through his head, watching as the Demon Sword shuffled uncomfortably, obviously thrown off by his sudden appearance.

“Um—”

“What are you doing here?” He interrupted.

There had to be a plan in action if they were here, and it was obvious that he had intruded on whatever it was that they were set out to do. It was only two short days since Asura revived, he should have guessed Medusa’s company would be disgusting enough to carry out the rest of their plans while everyone was trying to get things back in order, even with her leadership disintegrated through her death. It was crass, insensitive, rude, and unsurprising now that he thought about it.

“I’m not doing anything bad, I promise!” The Demon Sword responded shakily, “I…I’m allowed to be here now…”

Kid’s eyes narrowed. That was a lie if he ever heard one. Their voice was trembling significantly, and he’d never gotten a report from his father anything of the sort about this. They had to be carrying out the late orders of Medusa. Or maybe this was vengeance? No matter what it was, he couldn’t allow them to continue forward with whatever mission they have. He had to tread carefully, though. He didn’t have his weapons with him, and from what he remembered, this Demon Sword had theirs in constant company. So he was at a disadvantage. How unfortunate.

“Is that so?” Kid bit out sarcastically.

He scoffed at the way the Demon Sword sputtered at his response and how their panic rose the more they couldn’t come up with a believable excuse. Taking advantage of their sputtering, Kid took a chance and took a confident step forward to try and bluff an offense. 

He felt some relief at seeing the Demon Sword visibly fluster at his approach. He may have skill with hand-to-hand combat, but he was no match against their sword if he was weaponless. But confidence was half the battle of intimidation, so Kid braved a few strong strides in their direction so that they were in conversation’s distance rather than at the ends of the hallway. Once he stopped in front of them, Kid noticed how the Demon Swords entire body locked up and how they were looking at him with wide, shaking eyes.

Now that he wasn’t asking across the hall, Kid’s voice dropped menacingly, “I’ll ask again. What are you doing here?”

Their eyes flit around, looking around him for an out, before dropping shamefully to the floor. It sparked agitation in his gut to look at this quiet villain. Despite the show of power they had on that ship several weeks ago, right now they looked as powerless as a normal human. That appearance didn’t fool him though. Kid remembered just how meek they looked even when they were pulsing with enough energy to heave a ship in two.

“I don’t know what your plans are here,” He spoke low and with a venom that Medusa’s snakes would envy, “but my father and everyone else  _ will _ be hearing about this. So it would be best for you to leave while you can.”

The Demon Sword still stood there quietly, and Kid grit his teeth at their persistent silence. His caution towards the situation was whittling away just like his patience. 

“Haven’t you done enough?” He couldn’t help but grumble out when he had this pliant enemy in front of him, “What more could you possibly want to do?”

They remained silent.

Kid whipped his arm out to point at the dark sky that tinted the hallway they were in with a dusky red, even with all of the bright lights that lined the walls, and the Demon Sword flinched at the sudden action, “Didn’t you already get what you want?”

“Didn’t you already achieve everything that Medusa strived for when she was working just beneath our noses? Haven’t you already tried to kill half of my friends, including me?” Death the Kid continued to seethe, “You disgust me,  _ sicken  _ me, if you have even more tucked up your sleeve because you’ve already done  _ enough. _ ”

Death the Kid watched as the Demon Sword cowered before him, and while was satisfied by the reaction, he was getting increasingly suspicious from their lack of defense. Suddenly a bubbling black mass was emerging from them, and Death the Kid’s pose hardened with the expectation that he’d need to defend himself. However, what formed was a small recreation of the monster he’d seen before on the ship, and it leveled its crosshair eyes at him.

“Oi!! I’d shut the fuck up before you end up regretting it, you little brat!” It yelled.

“R-Ragnarok!” The Demon Sword cried, “Stop, don’t say that!”

“I will not take kindly to you—”

“Like hell! You think I’m gonna be a wimp like you and just sit back while he throws a fit at us?! I oughta—”

“Crona?”

Each of them froze as they heard a voice call out from the next hallway over. Shortly after, Maka rounded the corner that Death the Kid had come from only minutes before. Her eyes locked on the Demon Sword and a bright smile took over her face.

“Ah! I thought I heard you!” she chirped.

“M-Maka?” the Demon Sword stuttered in astonishment.

Maka’s expression shifted when she saw Death the Kid and he could tell that she was assessing the situation by the fast flickering of her eyes between him and the Demon Sword.

“Kid! I see you’ve met Crona already!” She recovered.

Maka briskly walked up to their side, bypassing Death the Kid, and took their arm.

“You missed when I told everyone else about them and how they’re a student at DWMA now!” she explained quickly, “Lord Death just told me everything, and I was trying to find them so I can introduce them to everyone. You should join us!” 

Kid’s heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach when he heard that Maka had gotten a report about this before him, stomach acid burning uncomfortably inside of him, “I need to talk to my father about this.” 

“Huh?” Maka reacted, “But, Kid, if you join us I can explain what—” 

“I will see you later, Maka. I have to leave now.” 

Before Maka could say anything else, Death the Kid turned on his heel and quickly strode away, his hand gripping at his mouth. He felt like he was going to throw up. Maka was probably calling something at his back, but he couldn’t tell what it was. 

.

“Father, as a grim reaper I am surprised that you have allowed a trespasser like the Demon Sword entry into your school.”

“Ah, so you’ve met them have you?!” Death bounced, “How have they been holding up? I haven’t seen them since we granted them a room two days ago!”

Death the Kid stood in front of his father, the burning in his stomach not yet subsided. All of the shame he felt from the past few days still swam heavily in the back of his mind, but right now they were taking a back burner to the anger and betrayal he felt at the Demon Sword getting permission to DWMA and the fact that his father  _ hadn’t told him. _

Noticing his son’s silence, Death asked, “Have you heard Maka’s story about what happened with the Demon Sword?”

“I have not.” Death the Kid answered.

“Ooh, it’s such a sweet one!” Death crooned, “Really invigorating if you ask me, and—”

“Father!” Death the Kid cut, “That—that Demon Sword is unforgivable! Allowing them entry to DWMA rocks its whole balance off-center. And considering who they worked for? Medusa was able to front an unassuming persona for plenty long in order to carry out her plans. Who’s to say that the Demon Sword isn’t using the same trick?”

Death regarded his son with patient consideration, “Kid… I understand your concern. However, I have faith that the Demon Sword is genuine and that it is a good idea to have them as our ally.”

“Good ally or not,” Death the Kid seethed, “They are directly responsible for the Kishin’s revival and worked under someone whose goal it was to bring down DWMA.”

Death sighed, “You are not wrong to feel doubtful… They have acted against us in several ways, and their soul’s stability could be cause for concern.”

“Stability?” Death the Kid questioned.

“I would think that their insanity level would be high even without the Kishin reviving. Now that that’s happened, though… we probably need to be careful of their madness spiking up again. Maka was able to bring them out of it for now, but we need to ensure they stay that way for the long run."

“And so you are willing to threaten the safety within DWMA by keeping them here?” Death the Kid pressed, incredulous, “You’ve just admitted that there is a possibility for them to give into the Kishin’s madness.”

“I’m allowing them the best access to their support system by housing them in the DWMA.” Death countered.

Frustration rumbled around in Death the Kid’s brain as he listened to his Father recognize that the Demon Sword’s genuinity wasn’t concrete. Even more, it brought up the new concern about their tolerance to the Kishin’s madness and how it had the possibility to warp them even if they had decided to switch sides. Though Death the Kid couldn’t deny that housing in the DWMA would grant them the best resistance as it had the most proximity to his Father’s cleansing presence. Regardless, despite the opposition he proposed, it seemed his Father had made up his mind and fully believed in his prediction that the Demon Sword would benefit them. He was only going to wear himself out if he tried to continue the disagreement.

“I will agree to civility.” Death the Kid compromised, “But I will continue to be wary of them.”

“As you have the right to be,” Death agreed, “But remember that you mustn’t let that be an obstacle to them. It would be regrettable for their progress to stop short because of your mistrust.”

“I will do my best, Father.” Death the Kid said.

Death seemed satisfied with Death the Kid’s reply at first, nodding contently, but then seemed to remember something and perked up, “You saw them just earlier, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

A low hum rumbled out from behind the mask, “You haven’t already scared them off, have you?”

“I’m sure that they’re fine.” was Death the Kid’s curt reply, “But I reacted in the way you’d assume I would when faced with an unexpected enemy.”

“You didn’t hurt them too bad, hopefully?” Death drooped, “Not enough to make them leave for good?”

“We didn’t fight.” Death the Kid specified, “I didn’t have any weapons and they didn’t make any moves, so I didn’t attack. I wouldn’t call our interaction friendly, though.”

A head shake followed with Death’s reply, “That’s unfortunate, but there’s no reversing it.”

Death the Kid clenched his hands, unseen behind his back, “It could have been prevented. I was not informed of the Demon Sword’s admission into the school.”

“Ah, I’m sorry, Kid.” Death apologized, “I wanted to offer Maka the chance to tell your group herself rather than me, since she’s the one who befriended them. That opportunity did not become available until today since we’ve all been dealing with the wreckage since the revival.”

“I understand, but…” Death the Kid’s voice involuntarily came out meeker than he wanted, “why didn’t you tell  _ me _ ?” 

Another shake of his head, “I’m sorry, Kid. Truthfully, it was not my conscious decision not to inform you. Other concerns have been occupying my mind, and I did not think to. I hope you can forgive me.”

This should have been a reassurance to him, Death the Kid knew, but somehow it did nothing to relieve the aching in his chest. Hearing that Death the Kid’s status as a successor was so small in his Father’s mind that he simply  _ forgot _ to include his son in his concerns held its own kind of hurt. Death the Kid could only assume that this was the same explanation for why he was not invited to any of the meetings regarding the strategy to address the revival. Tsubaki’s claim that his Father was granting him relief of responsibility out of consideration crumbled at the realization that he just wasn’t considered at all. Stinging pulled at the edges of his eyes, but Death the Kid quickly pulled himself together.

“Of course, Father. You have been very busy, I’m sure.”

“That’s a relief!” Death sprang in place.

“Well,” Death the Kid said coolly, “I should meet up with Maka and the others.”

“Of course! Of course!” Death encouraged.

Death the Kid parted with a short bow and strode from the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, he leaned against it somberly. Muddled thoughts swam around in his head. Before he could get overwhelmed, he waved a hand in the air to dispel the invisible apprehensions and pushed away from the door. With a cleansing breath, Death the Kid straightened out his jacket and set off on his journey home, where he could brood in peace.

* * *

The introductions had gone well, much to Crona’s surprise. They suppose it was because Maka had already prepared everyone to meet them, but Crona was nonetheless surprised to find that the others looked at them with curious eyes as they approached rather than with disgust. Perhaps that confrontation with Lord Death’s son was a bad first experience for meeting Maka’s friends because the rest of them were very cordial and open to conversation and let Crona know that they were part of the group now. 

Everyone got acquainted with Ragnarok too after he burst out of Crona’s spine to whine loudly about how long he was waiting to get some breakfast, which led them all to get food together at the cafeteria. The meal was full of casual conversation, and Crona was ready to sit quietly and listen in as the group of friends talked around them, but each of them was deliberate about making sure that they knew they were included. If Crona weren’t in such a state of shock with how easily everything was going, they’d cry from all of the overwhelming feelings swelling in their chest.

Eventually, as people’s responsibilities called them away, Maka and Crona were alone at the table the group had claimed.

“I think that went well!” Maka beamed, “I’ll have to leave eventually to join them, so can I walk you back to your room? Then I can know where you’re staying!”

“Y-yeah.” Crona answered.

The walk back to Crona’s room was filled with Maka’s chatter as she expressed the enthusiasm she hadn’t gotten to let out before when they had company. She told Crona how happy she was to have them there and filled them in on some of the things to expect in the next few days once classes started back up again. Namely the oddities that came with having Professor Stein as their instructor.

At their arrival to Crona’s door, Maka’s casual chatter faded away and she turned to face Crona with a soft expression, “Hey… How are you doing? With all of this?”

Crona thought for a moment, “I...haven’t taken it all in yet. It still feels like it’s not real. All of your friends were so nice to me... I can’t believe that everyone was so willing to be friends with me. I thought they would all hate me.”

Maka smiled reassuringly, “Of course they wanted to be friends with you. Once I explained what happened, everyone knew that what happened wasn’t your fault.”

Despite Maka saying that, guilt stirred deep in Crona’s gut.

“By the way… can I ask what happened with Kid?” Maka asked cautiously.

“Ah…” Crona blanched, “since he saw me before you got to explain everything, he was pretty mad at me being in the school.” 

Maka’s eyebrows pushed upwards, “I’m sorry, Crona.”

Crona shook their head, “You don’t need to be… He… reminded me of what I expected people to treat me like. I felt like everyone was too forgiving, and I couldn’t deal with it because it didn’t make sense. I’m glad he reminded me that I still have things to make up for.” 

Maka paled, “What did he say to you?”

Crona looked away from Maka and set their eyes on the cobble wall across from them instead, “Nothing unfair. He asked me what I was doing at the DWMA and thought that I had plans to act on more of Medusa’s plans… Then he said that I was disgusting because I’ve already done enough to all of you.”

Maka scowled guiltily, “I’ll have a talk with him. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to talk to him before he saw you.”

Crona smiled weakly, "Thank you, Maka, but… I think that he’s right. I'm a bad person. I shouldn't be here."

Maka took Crona by the shoulders and held them tightly, "Don't say that, Crona. You're not a bad person.”

Crona grimaced, “I did so many bad things…Maka, I should be unforgivable. I hurt all of you, all of Death City, in so many ways.”

Maka took her hands from Crona’s shoulders to cradle their face softly in her hands, her expression somber, “They weren’t your fault.”

Crona hesitantly met Maka’s eyes and saw how resolute they were, “Crona, you didn’t have a choice to do the things you did. Those weren’t your choices, they were Medusa’s. I know that doesn’t change the fact that you still did them, but acknowledging your past is something that you’re already doing, and that’s so good. It’s probably always going to hurt, and it will be painful, but Lord Death has given you a chance to move forward.”

“Kid will see how much of a good person you are soon.” Maka stated with certainty, “But in the meantime, you can’t let that stop you from getting better.”

Crona nodded numbly, “It’s okay if he never forgives me. It’s okay if no one does. But I still want to do right by everyone now… because that’s what they deserve from me.”

“You deserve it too, Crona.” Maka added softly, “You deserve to be treated right, too.”

They were quiet for a moment before Maka brought Crona into her arms, hugging them tightly and not letting go.

“Don’t you have to meet with everyone else?” Crona asked against her shoulder.

“They’ll understand,” Maka responded, pulling Crona in tighter, “You’re more important right now.”

Tears budded in Crona’s eyes, and they melted into her warm embrace.

“…I wish this were easier. I don’t know how to deal with all of my gray morality…” Crona rasped.

“I wish it were easier, too…” Maka sighed next to their ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone else get whiplash from that many pov shifts? And jeez, writing that first scene with so many characters was exhausting! How did Ohkubo do it? 
> 
> Third chapter will be uploaded next Friday!
> 
> Btw! I have a tumblr dedicated to some of the art I’ve done for this fic so please make sure to check it at makenshicrona.


	3. Imagine Having a Gold Card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like, a literal gold card. You can't even use it at cash registers, it just has Death's mask on it and subscript that says, "Put it on my tab".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you noticed that I use the English translation for everything except Kishin? I switched out all the Japanese terms I used in the original because it's more cohesive to use the official translations, but I just can't force myself to use Afreet instead of Kishin, I can't!

Maka sat at the yellow table of her apartment's kitchen early Saturday morning, clutching the handle of her coffee mug with her right hand and circling the rim with her left. As she stared at the steam rise from her cup and waft into the air, Maka thought about how she was going to see Crona soon. Yesterday, before Maka finally pulled away from their hug and joined her group to resume her duties, they had agreed to meet up so Maka could help Crona get ready for the classes that were coming up.

Her gaze traveled to Blair sleeping on the couch, her small body moving with her deep breaths and tail twitching occasionally from its position wrapped around her. After a few minutes, Blair yawned, her small canine teeth showing, and slowly woke up. She padded over to Maka's chair and jumped onto her lap, curling up again, her tail swishing lazily. Maka pet her and Blair's purr rumbled in the quiet kitchen.

Maka eventually heard a low groan from in behind her. Looking behind her shoulder, Maka saw Soul freshly woken up. White hair messy, crimson eyes groggy, and clad in a loose T-shirt and sleep shorts.

"Good morning, Soul." Maka greeted.

"Good morning~" Blair mewled.

Soul didn't respond as he shuffled past them in his path to the coffee pot. After the few minutes it took for him to fix himself a mug, he plopped down in the seat opposite of his meister and took a long gulp.

"Morning." He finally grunted.

The two students sat in a comfortable quiet as each of them sipped from their respective mugs. When it was apparent each of them was close to finishing their drink, Blair jumped onto the floor. She poofed into her human form and got up from the floor to yawn and stretch.

Soul blinked at her change, knowing that Blair lazed around as a cat unless she had something she needed to do, "Do you have something planned today?"

"Hnn, I have an early shift today." She complained lightly as she dragged herself to Maka's room, where they shared a closet, to change out of her pink nightgown.

"I wouldn't think that place would be open at this early an hour." Soul said.

"Perverts don't have off hours." Maka clicked her tongue and downed the last of her coffee with that remark, then took her and Soul's empty mugs to the sink.

Soul came up behind her while she sudsed the two mugs, "I could have washed mine myself, ya know."

"I know."

Though she couldn't see it, he gave a warm grin to her back, "Thanks."

Maka rinsed off the mugs and dried her hands on the towel by the sink. She turned to Soul, hands on her hips, a matching warm smile adorning her face. Soul closed the small distance between them and set a soft kiss on her forehead. Maka hummed and rested her hands on his hips when he leaned back.

"You're seeing Crona today, right?" Soul asked.

"I am. I should join Blair and get ready too."

"Will you be back late?"

"I don't think so? But I can't say for sure."

Soul idly rubbed his thumb over Maka's hand on his hip, "Do you want to go grocery shopping later if you don't come back too late?"

Maka nodded brightly, "Yes. I have a list mostly written out, but try to fill it out more while I'm gone?"

"Will do."

Maka smiled again and pushed onto her toes to press a kiss onto Soul's cheek before leaving to go get dressed, "Thank you."

* * *

Liz lounged on the living room couch of the manor, flipping through an old installment of her favorite magazine and going through the articles she had passed over on her initial read, concerning interviews with people she couldn't care less about. Liz heard the telltale sound of Kid making his way down the stairs behind her and tilted her head to watch him. She didn't get to see him at all yesterday after he'd scurried away in the hallway, leaving her and Patty to do the rest of the day's work without him. She'd be annoyed if she weren't a little concerned about it. Okay, she was a little annoyed, but she could put it aside. More important than ditching her and Patty to go mope, Kid had missed something crucial that afternoon.

Before he could disappear somewhere else, Liz called out to him, "Hey, where were you yesterday?"

Kid stopped his walk across the room and raised a curious eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

Liz saved the spot she was at in her magazine with her thumb and fully turned around on the couch to face him, "I mean you weren't around when Maka was introducing Crona. She said that she saw you before we all got food together."

Kid's face pulled into an immediate frown, "Ah, that."

Liz groaned, "Look, I know you needed some time to yourself yesterday. But I wish that you had joined us to welcome them into the group. It felt kinda important for us all to be there, you know?"

"So you're okay with it?" Kid asked.

"Huh?" Liz replied in confusion, noting the weird expression Kid was giving her.

"Having the Demon Sword in our midst." Death the Kid clarified.

"Well, yeah." Liz confirmed blankly, "Maka explained everything yesterday."

Death the Kid furrowed his brow, "And that's all it took to clear your suspicions?"

"What's with that?" Irritation sparked in her at his questioning, "Are you saying that you don't trust Maka?"

He shook his head, seemingly just as irritated, "That's not what I mean."

Liz furrowed her eyebrows back at him, "Look, Kid. I get that it's weird. We were all sort of taken aback. But Maka trusts them and thinks they're fit for our side, and your dad seems to think so too."

Liz saw Kid's eyes darken once she mentioned his dad, "Just because Father and Maka think that the Demon Sword has potential as an ally doesn't mean that we should blindly absolve the Demon Sword of all suspicion."

Liz could only give him a disgruntled look, and he deflated a little under her gaze.

He began to twist around the rings on his fingers in frustration and muttered, "So we just shouldn't consider that they may still have ties with Medusa's plan? So we should just forget what they've done up until now?"

"No one said that—" Liz started to retort with exasperation.

"They're unforgivable." He interrupted, twisting his rings with more fervor, "I will not forgive such transgressions so easily, unlike my Father. Actions must have consequences. It is the rule of order and a law of the universe that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. To forego the process of dealing the Demon Sword equal punishment or consequence to their sins is—"

"Kid." Liz tried to break his frantic mumbling. "Kid, stop."

"They have gathered countless innocent souls." he continued, relentless, "They nearly killed Soul. Their mentor was a witch that infiltrated DWMA and they took part in reviving the Kishin—"

He was getting too far gone, but Liz tried to call out to him again, "Look, I know, Kid, but—"

"—and they're the one who absorbed that spirit on the ship, did they not?!"

Liz stilled immediately, heart lurching. The soft face of a little girl flashed in her memory and the vision of her disappearing into nothing brought shivers to her shoulders. Following their mission on the Nidhogg, Liz had confided in Kid about the experience on a quiet night when her thoughts wouldn't leave her alone. Kid bringing it up hit a weak point of hers, and by meeting his gaze, Kid's eyes spoke that this was the effect he wanted on her. Her hurt was quickly replaced by burning betrayal.

"You're full of low blows recently, aren't you, Kid?" Liz hissed.

Kid's face flushed a dark color and he looked away from her, scowling, shame flooding his posture for the second time in two days. Liz wasn't pacified seeing his guilt over his dirty play and stood up from her position on the couch because she didn't really want to be around him for a while. She tossed her magazine onto the coffee table and it hit with a loud _slap_. She didn't care that she lost her place.

"Well, Maka is coming over with Crona in a few hours, so try not to lose your shit like you did just now." Liz growled out and turned to leave.

"That won't be an issue." Kid offered sheepishly at her back, "Despite my feelings on the matter, I have the decision to stay civil unless the Demon Sword commits anything explicitly suspicious… You don't have to worry."

Liz acknowledged his statement with silence and took a step to exit the room, wanting to get away from the person who weaponized her grief against her.

"Liz." He called weakly.

She stopped, but she didn't face him, still simmering from his earlier attack.

"I'm sorry." He rasped pathetically, "That was unfair of me. I've been stressed these past few days, but that gives me no excuse to project that onto you. Or Tsubaki or BlackStar… Or even the Demon Sword. I shouldn't use such dirty tactics to hurt my friends just because of how I'm feeling. It's disgraceful."

Liz turned back towards him during his apology. She wanted to hold on to a piece of her anger just to spite him for what he did, but Liz couldn't help how it melted at seeing this weary boy in front of her. As much of an ass as he's been, she knows that it's borne from the distress he'd shouldered in the past few days and his obsessive concern with his worthiness as a grim reaper. She was so worried over him, and here he is breaking in front of her again.

"Kid…" She trailed off softly, unable to find any words that could convey how she didn't excuse his underhanded attack but understood where it came from, or how she was both exasperated by his rant but wanted to sympathize with him, or how she desperately wanted him to be okay. So she settled for something simpler, "... you're an idiot."

He gave her another apologetic look, but he could understand that he was forgiven.

* * *

"R-Really?" Crona asked, "You didn't have to ask Liz and Patty to join us. Are you sure that they want to?"

The two of them were walking the streets of Death City. The sky had finally cleared of its plume of red dust and its brilliant blue expanse held a few cheery little clouds, half-convincing Crona that they were taking a normal stroll with a classmate like they had done it their whole life instead of awkwardly acknowledging that this was the first of many normal experiences that they were going to have.

"Of course!" Maka replied to Crona's hesitation, "They want to get to know you better. Plus, Liz never turns down the opportunity to spend money, so she's really excited to spoil you today."

"Eh? Sp—spoil me?!" Crona strangled out, "I—I don't, she, it's— I don't know if I can deal with someone spending money on me!"

Maka shot over a sympathetic look, "I know it will feel a little embarrassing, but it will be okay!"

Crona sheepishly held Maka's gaze for a moment before looking down at the passing sidewalk, "... I know. I just… don't want anyone to feel obligated to get me things. I'll be okay without some stuff."

"I can see how you feel that way." Maka comforted, "A lot of people get flustered at the idea of other people paying for them. But I can't let you keep living at DWMA with only the clothes on your back, and Liz loves to treat others!"

"If you say so, Maka." Crona relented.

Maka continued to chat casually about Liz and Patty as she led them to their destination. Crona had voiced their worry because Maka had told them that they were heading to where the Thompsons lived so they could all go shopping together. Now they were walking through some residential streets, and Crona kept scanning the residences in the distance and wondering which of the many places the sisters lived. Eventually the details of the biggest house at the end of the street, and the biggest house Crona had ever seen, became clearer as they gradually grew closer to it. From the large gate closing it off from the rest of the residences and the accent of Death masks adorning its front, it gave Crona the strong guess that this must be where Lord Death's son lived since they'd already heard of Lord Death's propensity to stay within DWMA. Upon that comprehension, Crona came to another startling realization as they suddenly remembered something. Liz and Patty were the weapons of Lord Death's son, weren't they? If they learned how Soul and Maka lived together and how BlackStar and Tsubaki lived together yesterday during their meal together, wouldn't it stand that Liz and Patty would live with their meister as well?

"Ah, Maka," Crona needed to confirm, "is that big house where Liz and Patty are?"

Maka nodded, "Mhm!"

"And.. that's where Lord Death's son lives too, right?"

Hearing the wobbliness in their voice, Maka immediately turned to reassure them, "We're only meeting with Liz and Patty. They know that we're coming and it's a big house, so it's unlikely that Kid will even show up."

"Y-you're right." Crona took her consolation, "If he knows that I'm coming, he may even try to avoid me."

Maka's face screwed up regretfully at that, but she didn't respond to it. Once they had made it past the gate and gotten up the stairs, they were met by a giddy Patty throwing open the door to greet them. She tossed herself at Crona and wrapped them in a big hug, instantly babbling about how excited she was about their shopping trip. Crona nearly fell over from the force of the hug, but somehow kept upright. Liz appeared at the door a short time after, shaking her head at Patty's antics. While Patty was chattering in their ear, Crona cautiously looked behind Liz to make sure that another figure wasn't there and was satisfied to see that only the two weapons had come to the door.

"You two are a little bit earlier than I expected, so you can come in while I finish organizing my purse." Liz invited, walking to the side table where her purse lay alongside miscellaneous items.

Patty released Crona from her hug and bounced back inside while Crona and Maka crossed the threshold to stand in the entranceway. Crona observed as Patty started prattling to Maka about a movie she had watched last night with exhilarating energy and as Liz scrounged old receipts out of her purse and replaced them instead with tubes of lip gloss and other emergency cosmetic items. Sweeping their eyes around their surroundings, Crona drank in the scenery of the large house, but a shift in their peripheral vision drew their attention. Death the Kid was hunched over by the bookcase in the living room, his still position and black clothing offering him camouflage from Crona's initial observation. Crona's first instinct was to stay quiet so that he didn't notice that they were here, but Maka had mentioned that they all knew they were coming, so was it that he was here to make sure that Crona didn't do anything bad? Or maybe… he just didn't care? If Death the Kid were there to supervise Crona, they'd expect his hawkish gaze to follow them upon entry, but he was paying absolutely no mind to the commotion over at the entryway. While it was a better alternative than a repeat of yesterday, Death the Kid completely dismissing them in contrast to his previous reaction came with its own discomfort. Swallowing roughly, Crona decided to keep their eyes off of him if he was ignoring them, but then noticed that beside them Maka held a steady gaze on the reaper in the next room despite still holding an easy conversation with Patty.

"Okay, I'm all set!" Liz announced, proudly shouldering her purse.

"Actually, Liz," Maka broke her steady sight on Death the Kid's back and met Liz's, "Could you go on ahead of me for a little bit? I kinda want to have a talk with Kid first."

"Uh, sure," Liz said weirdly at first, but then comprehension dawned on her face, "Yeah, totally, we'll be up ahead then.

Patty cocked her head curiously, "Ooh, is Kid in trouble with you, Maka?"

Maka laughed awkwardly, "Not really, but something like that."

"Maka…" Crona spoke, cautious to keep their voice down should Death the Kid turn at hearing them, "You don't have to."

She met them with a pacifying smile, "I just think it'll help clear things up a lot faster!"

"Honestly," Liz stepped in and threw a weary look at her meister fumbling over the book spines in front of him, "I think it'll do him some good. He has some… Concerns that I think you can help with."

Maka met Liz's gaze with that addendum and nodded in understanding, "Yeah. Then I really want the chance to talk to him."

"Okay~!" Patty cheered, "Maka gets to scold Kid and we get to have Crona all to ourseeelves!"

"Will you be fine, Crona?" Maka asked, soft concern in her eyes.

"Hey!" Came Liz's indignant huff, "We'll take good care of them, promise!"

Crona did feel anxious being left alone so quickly with new people. But they were already introduced to each other yesterday, and they seemed nice? Maka was trying so hard to transition them into her friend group. Crona also knew they couldn't convince her to leave the Death the Kid subject alone, so Crona could think of no other option than to swallow some of their nervousness and reassure her.

"I will, don't worry."

* * *

Color, height, width, alphabetical order, series order, publication date—There were so many ways to rearrange all of the books that lived in his bookcase. Perfecting the method that organized the bookcase was a quarterly ordeal once Death the Kid was ready to add a permanent addition to his collection after vetting his most recent reads for the one worthiest of ownership. The book arrived in his mail just an hour ago and he reveled in its flawlessness, its cover unbent and pages crisp, unlike the copy he had read at the library. But where would it go now in his bookcase? Each new inclusion brought deliberation. Should he keep the same structure that he put in place last time? His last book convinced him into organizing by color since it was a perfect transition shade for two other novels, but this new book would complete his alphabetical order of authors. Decisions, decisions.

"Kid?" A voice cut through his deliberation.

Maka was standing a little ways away from him, an unreadable expression on her face. When had she arrived? Liz informed him that she and the Demon Sword would stop by, but he hadn't noticed them come in. He looked past her briefly and saw no one else. He noticed the unwavering silence in the manor too, so it seemed that it was only him and Maka. He couldn't decide whether he was disappointed or grateful that he had missed the coming and going of the Demon Sword since he wanted to prove his good behavior to Liz, but it relieved him of the effort he actually had to go through to do that.

"Yes, Maka?" he answered her.

"Can we talk?"

Death the Kid straightened up from his hunched position, "May I ask about what?"

Maka's eyebrows dipped heavily, "I wanted to talk to you about Crona."

Death the Kid sighed internally. He was expecting that. He knew that it would come eventually because there was no way that Maka would let him get away with his sudden escape yesterday. And considering the look in her eyes now, he could manage that the Demon Sword had probably told Maka about some of his words in the hallway, which could have only intensified her motivation to confront him as soon as possible. He sort of hoped that it would have come later, after their outing today, so that he could emotionally prepare for what Maka had prepared for him.

He gave a parting glance to the bookshelf, mentally noting that he did want to change to alphabetical order this time, and invited Maka to sit on the couch with him. They sat a comfortable distance apart, but Death the Kid didn't position himself to face Maka and instead kept his knees impersonally forward. He was worried that he couldn't keep proper composure if he had a direct line of sight to Maka's expressive eyes.

He couldn't allow himself to get pulled in a different direction just because Maka was a close friend of his. No matter how much he trusted Maka as an individual. Out of his whole friend group, she was probably the one whose judgment he'd put the most confidence in. Regardless of that, even someone as intelligent and insightful as Maka has the potential for oversight if she's played right. And considering the Demon Sword's mentor, it's a strong possibility to take into account. Remaining objective was imperative.

"I know about what happened in the hallway yesterday… with Crona." Maka began, her body turned fully towards him.

"I figured that you would ask what occurred." Death the Kid acknowledged coolly and focused his eyes on her shoulder, "I am aware that some of the things I said may be regarded as harsh considering that Father has accepted the Demon Sword into DWMA, but I don't regret what I chose to say."

Death the Kid felt the cushions shift slightly as Maka leaned her body closer to him imploringly, "Kid. I know how it must have seemed, seeing Crona is the hall so suddenly after everything, but they aren't our enemy anymore."

"Because of a change of heart, right?" Death the Kid stated lightly with underlying bite, "Even if that's true, I find it hard to forgive their many transgressions. When someone has done as much as they have, you don't just brush it under the rug."

"I know, Kid. I'm not denying that. And Crona isn't either." Maka reassured, "But something that's important to understand is that they didn't want to do any of those things, and they didn't have the choice _not_ to."

Death the Kid shook his head with a light scoff, "And how can you be so sure? A confession given when they want you to spare their life isn't exactly reputable."

Maka shook her head right back at him and tried unsuccessfully to catch his eye again, "They didn't confess anything."

Death the Kid finally met her eyes in confusion and was hit so strongly by the sentimentality in her eyes that it made his heart lurch momentarily. He choked down the reaction in his chest so he could continue to assess the situation objectively.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I saw it." Maka whispered tenderly, eyes full with the same emotion.

That answer didn't clarify anything, and it only served to confuse Death the Kid more. He doubted that there was really a way to observe the Demon Sword's true feelings about their villainy during a single battle, so he wondered what could possibly have been so powerful as to convince Maka of what she was saying

"I'm sure you were surprised to see BlackStar catch up to you since it was supposed to be me, but seeing Crona again… I needed to finish what we started. I couldn't just pass by the opportunity to fight them again after what they did to Soul." Maka smiled wryly, "It was reckless of me."

"It was." Death the Kid agreed tightly, "Things could be different if you followed Professor Stein's original plan."

Maka didn't shun away at all at the accusation and her expression was steely when she spoke again, "Even if it changed things, I would make the same decision."

Death the Kid flinched at the shamelessness of Maka's statement. Saying something like that to a grim reaper was bold and she knew it. Mindful of his reaction, Maka softened in apology, but one that expressed sympathy for him rather than one that expressed regret for what she said.

Maka's expression shifted back to the one from when she was starting her story, "When I was fighting Crona, it was obvious why BlackStar was the better choice. I wasn't any match at all for their black blood, and without something like BlackStar's wavelength attacks, I didn't have a way to get the upper hand. So I did something reckless again."

"Before the fight… I had a premonition. I felt that I wasn't going to lose to Crona if we fought. I felt _something_ in Crona's wavelength that made me feel that this was a battle I could win if I just figured out how to grasp it. But I couldn't… and I found out that the only way I'd be able to reach Crona's soul is if I brought myself to their wavelength. So I decided to let myself give into the madness of the black blood Crona infected Soul with."

Death the Kid started at that and observed the girl next to him, surprised that someone as calculating as her would have done something so risky. True to her word, Maka was very reckless that night, and he was glad that she came back safe.

"Soul was upset with me at first… for wanting to give in to the black blood so I could try to reason with Crona, but I felt so strongly that it would work. Or rather, that it had to work, because we weren't going to win that fight. And it was so easy, Kid, to get them out of it. When I let the black blood take over, it consumed every part of me and I couldn't even control my actions. It was… really embarrassing." Maka cringed, "But that was the same amount of madness that Crona had been dealing with for who knows how long, and the moment I held out my hand to them…they took it."

Death the Kid's ear perked at the crack in Maka's voice and saw that there were tears stubbornly budding at the corners of her eyes and that her lips were trembling slightly. He didn't say anything, but Maka didn't need his answer to continue.

"Kid, they must have been waiting for so long, fighting for so long against that madness, just hoping that someone would come for them."

He could only watch as she used the hand that wasn't clenching her skirt to scrub at her eyes. He cast his gaze down as she continued to pull herself together, looking at his own tense fists laid atop his thighs.

"I will take that into consideration."

Maka stopped mid-sniffle and jerked her head towards him, expression more taken aback than he appreciated, "Really?"

"Of course. I can't tell you how much this will affect my current impression of them, but it would be immature of me to not consider all the information provided to me."

Maka sighed, obviously not entirely satisfied with his answer, before giving him a wobbly smile, "Thank you, Kid."

Death the Kid rose from the couch and straightened his jacket, "There is no need to thank me. I am not doing any favors in merely taking in new information to construct my opinion on a situation."

"Still." Maka answered, standing up as well, "Thank you for hearing me out."

Death the Kid softened as he looked at the girl in front of him, "Of course, Maka, you are a good friend of mine. Please know that I do hope that your faith in Crona is not misplaced."

He knew that not all of his suspicion was quelled. It would take some time before he trusted the Demon Sword so he could rest assured that they didn't have anything waiting up their sleeve. Even more, he needed to get an accurate gage of them himself and not from the secondhand accounts of Maka, Liz, and his Father. But he trusted and cared about each of them, so he hoped that their newfound friendship in the Demon Sword was well-deserved for each of their sake. Because of his status as a grim reaper, Death the Kid wasn't sure that he'd ever get comfortable around the Demon Sword, but he won't interrupt their integration into his friend group if they're genuine.

"Oh, Kid, I hope that you get to spend time with them soon." Maka beamed, "Crona is really sweet. And they have the cutest smile!"

"I'll take your word for it," Death the Kid replied dryly, unable to imagine the meister smiling at all, let alone around him.

Death the Kid half-turned to his bookcase because he expected Maka to run off to catch up with the others, but he heard her let out a relieved breath as she shook off the residual discomfort from the previous conversation.

Her countenance changed into something more casual as she addressed Kid with an unrelated question, "So! How are you feeling about that mission we have together tomorrow?"

* * *

Maka had glanced at a clock before she had left the manor and noted that the exchange between her and Kid lasted shy of an hour. She bit her lip and wondered if that was too long of a time to have left Crona in the devices of the Thompson sisters by themself the day after introducing them to each other. She hadn't quite expected to talk that long with Kid, but the difference between briefing the rest of the group yesterday and the earnest conversation today made it so that she couldn't help but divulge all of the details.

Once she hit the outskirts of downtown, Maka stopped to ponder where she'd find the trio. There were a few places that she knew that the Thompsons frequented, and it wouldn't take long to sweep through them, but if they had gone anywhere different to suit Crona's tastes she had a longer hunt on her hands. Maka frowned when she remembered all the construction redirections she'd have to face when she caught sight of the reparations happening at a shop across from her. She half considered using her soul perception to find the group instead before she heard a familiar, rambunctious laugh in the distance.

Maka wove through rubble and various construction spots and other milling shoppers as she followed the laugh around the corner. She found the three seated outside of a populated ice cream parlor, Patty spooning sloppy mush into Ragnarok's large mouth, some of the contents dripping onto a lazy napkin placed on top of Crona's head. She bounced up to them, calling out, and Crona looked up at her appearance gratefully. She hopped the little fence that separated the seating area from the rest of the sidewalk and leaned against it when she saw that there were no free seats that she could drag over to their table. They all greeted her return, but no one brought up her conversation with Kid. She supposed that Crona and Liz didn't want to ask in case it hadn't gone smoothly to spare the lighthearted mood and that Liz had scolded Patty into not asking when she came back.

Maka noticed the shopping bag sitting beside Crona's feet, "Oh? Did you find something you liked?"

"Uh…" Crona hesitated.

Maka reached down and plucked the bag from its resting place. Opening it, Maka's face screwed up in confusion and then pulled out a tent of a tacky shirt and boxy red shorts. She leveled an unamused look at Liz.

"Did you let them try on anything comfortable?" Maka scolded in her direction.

Liz answered with a guilty chuckle, "We may have been a little selfish and played around with Crona for a while. Ragnarok said he liked the shirt, though!"

"Yeah!" He confirmed, "If I were in my body, I could definitely pull it off. But I'll have to make do with this punk wearing it in my stead."

Maka gave a good-natured shake of her head. She listened to a recount of the other shops they visited, and once the other three finished their ice creams, Maka provided her suggestion of stores to visit (the so-called "boring" ones, in Liz's words). They were able to get Crona some comfy clothes, school supplies, and other essentials for living in their room at DWMA. Maka deflected several of Ragnarok's terrible suggestions but humored him by throwing in a couple of room accessories that he showed interest in. Crona turned down the offer of getting textbooks from the bookstore since they had unlimited access to the school library, and it brought up conversation of the classes that were coming up soon.

"Don't worry about asking for help if you need it!" Maka told Crona as she grappled with the shopping bags in her hands, "I'll make sure to help you!"

Crona wrestled with their own share of bags and responded with a soft smile, "Thank you, Maka, I will."

"Oh! We should make a study group!" Maka suggested to all of them, "It will help you catch up with where lessons are!"

"I think that would help..." Crona agreed shyly, "When Professor Sid brought me in, he showed me the library… and I found the textbook for Professor Stein's class in the reserves, so I have read some of it. But I think you can teach me a lot more than if I tried to do it by myself."

"I don't know how much help Patty and I will be," Liz added, "but I think a study group is a good idea. Last time I tried studying by myself, it did _not_ get that far."

Patty was masterfully balancing boxes of shoes for herself on her head when she pipped, "Yeah! My big sister can't study at all!"

"You say that like you can!" Liz defended.

Maka nearly glowed. An opportunity to tutor all three of them? She should draw up lesson plans, "Great! We should meet up after our first week of class and decide how to go forward from there!"

The sun was close to setting by the time they all finished their gallivanting around the still-standing shops. Liz and Patty were drowning in their own shopping bags despite the trip's initial goal to outfit Crona, and denied help when Maka and Crona offered to help them carry their bags back to the manor before Liz smugly whipped out her phone and called for a car to pick them up. Maka marveled in the luxury of it all when Liz told her that she'd ask for the driver to drop her and Crona off at DWMA too. It was a struggle to shove everything into the trunk once the car arrived, but they managed somehow. There was delighted commotion in the spacious backseat as they all piled in and Patty pressed the buttons to the sunroof, light strip, air conditioner, and radio all after the other. Maka felt a little bad to the long-suffering chauffeur, but her conscience eased once Liz and Patty were dropped off and the backseat held just her and Crona in comfortable silence. They arrived at DWMA shortly after, the drive many times faster than their walking speed, and thanked the driver before gathering the rest of the bags from the trunk.

Maka was excited to put out everything in Crona's room to make it feel like it was really theirs. That cell room was so dreary and Maka knew they deserved the comfort of having personal possessions to liven the place up. They huffed and puffed as they lugged the haul down to Crona's room and both sighed out in relief when they dropped everything inside. Sucking in a reviving breath, Maka made immediate work of the home goods they purchased, excited to introduce color into the area. Crona also set some things up, but Maka couldn't help but take over most of the decoration, flitting around with a satisfied smile on her face. When most of the goods were put away, Maka stepped back to assess the room and finished with an approving nod.

"What do you think, Crona?" She asked, eagerness apparent in her voice.

Crona took their place beside Maka and took an overview of their newly decorated room. Soft blankets, fluffy pillows, a colored rug, a bright lamp, twinkling fairy lights, a ticking clock, and a singular gaudy poster of Ragnarok's taste. Aside from the bright scroll that Ragnarok chose, the rest of the room looked… cozy, an adjective that Crona has never associated with anything they've had.

"I… really like it, Maka." Crona awed and Maka beamed in return.

"It was really nice to shop together with Liz and Patty too," Maka added, "Even though I left you alone for the first part of it...I hope that you weren't too uncomfortable…"

Crona shook their head, "No, I was fine. I was nervous at first, but they were both very nice."

Maka sighed with relief, "Okay, that's good. Liz I wasn't worried too about, but I know Patty can be overwhelming sometimes."

Crona nodded, remembering all of the silly outfits they were pressured into trying on for the younger sister's amusement, "I didn't know how to deal with how energetic she was at first, but Liz balances her out."

"They are the perfect pair! Maybe it comes with being sisters." Maka hummed.

There was a comfortable beat before Crona turned to look at Maka. The air shifted tone and Maka met Crona's eyes.

"How… How did your talk go?" Crona asked quietly.

Maka deliberated how to answer. Kid hadn't really given a concrete answer to how he was going to treat Crona from now on. She could only figure that he still kept his original skepticism, but he did grant her the reassurance that he would keep her testimony in consideration for how he thought of Crona going forward, which wasn't the worst response. Maka trusted Kid, and she understood his hesitation when she kept his identity in mind. While she was frustrated with his stubbornness, she knew that he would eventually make an accurate judgment of Crona's character as they integrated further into their group.

"I think it went well. I just… think he needs time to get used to you." Maka answered cryptically.

Crona's eyebrows crinkled forlornly, "Ah…"

Maka bumped into their shoulder and took their hand, "It will be okay. Kid's not a mean person. He's been… touchy these last few days because he feels like the Kishin reviving is mostly his fault, and I'm sure how he reacted in the hallway was part of that. He's had a few prickly words with everyone…"

"Why does he think it's his fault?" Crona questioned, "It's… because of me and everyone else that it happened…isn't that why he hates me?"

"Kid doesn't hate you. He's just anxious because he hasn't met you for real yet." Maka's grip tightened around Crona's hand, "And he thinks that it was his responsibility to stop the revival. No matter how it happened, he thinks it's all on him."

"I guess being Lord Death's son takes a lot of work…" Crona mumbled sympathetically, "I'd probably worry the same thing."

Maka nodded, "It's because of that he's been out of sorts since then. I promise he's very gracious normally. You'll like him just as much as everyone else when he comes around."

Warmth filled Maka's body when she saw the hopeful smile grace Crona's face and she felt their optimistic squeeze at her hand. She really hoped Kid came around soon because she wanted to make good on her promise of Crona's cute smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I refuse to believe that Maka would see Crona's dour-ass room and not encourage them to liven it up. Also, I adore the concept of the sister's forcing Crona to get that stupid outfit they make them wear in the friendship montage.
> 
> Some new art is up on the tumblr!


	4. Lovely Little Chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter this time bc I couldn't finish everything I wanted, but fortunately I was able to finish this first scene!

Crona's tense body slumped as they heard the clunk of Maka's boots fade away. They were finally alone in the sanctuary of their newly decorated room. They took tired footsteps to the bed and sat at its head, grabbing the pillow to hold it in their arms. Crona nuzzled their face into its soft body and tried to find comfort in it.

They hadn't completely told the truth when Maka asked if their time alone with Liz and Patty had been uncomfortable. Not that the entire time was uncomfortable, Crona had told the truth about how nice both of the sisters were, but the same scene kept replaying in their head since it occurred.

.

It was the third shop they had visited and Crona had already gone through a fair share of playing doll for the Thompson sisters. The real shopping would happen once Maka joined up with them again, Liz had explained, since right now Crona was at their mercy. They were given relief for this store, though, since Patty and Liz were too busy looking at things for themselves. Patty had disappeared somewhere in the back of the store while Liz stayed up near the front to browse. Crona made the decision to stay near Liz instead of wandering around by themself and instead of getting caught up with whatever shenanigans Patty might get herself into. Liz was able to hold some casual conversation with them, but it eventually faded away into a comfortable silence. At least, until the silence went on for too long and Liz's hands stopped their shuffling through clothes racks.

"…hey, I have a question for you." Liz looked at them, eyes weary.

Caught off guard by Liz's quietness, Crona tilted their head, "Eh? What is it?"

"Back on Nidhogg… there were a lot of souls that you took." Her voice was hushed, almost swallowed by the pop music that crackled from the speakers above.

Crona felt their veins run icy, the unexpected shift in conversation bringing their whole body to a stop. They shakily analyzed how Liz was looking at them. Her eyes were imploring under her furrowed brow, and she was mercilessly fiddling with the ends of one of her strands of hair.

The fingers on Crona's arms twitched, "Th-there were, yeah…"

Liz's gaze swooped away from them, seemingly just as uncomfortable with this encounter as they were, "Are you—were you—able to ever tell whose soul you'd taken? Like, have you ever able to tell them apart?"

"Ah…" Had they ever been able to tell them apart? Too many times, though probably not as many times as they had deserved, had they felt the disconcerting sensation of wriggling in their body from all the souls kept inside of them while they fed off the energy from those faint lifeforms. Oh, dear, their fingers were really shaking now, weren't they? "S-sometimes…"

"Have you…" Liz continued, "ever noticed a little girl… in there?"

Crona searched their memory, trying to remember if they'd ever noticed the presence of a little girl inside of them. But back when they'd had all those human souls, there had been hundreds upon hundreds of them disjointed and jumbled inside of their body, so many that they were hard to separate.

"I… didn't notice. I'm sorry." Crona's throat had tightened up and it made their voice come out thick.

Liz's lip trembled and turned to them, beseeching, "C-can you find her now, though? Can she hear anything in there? I wanted to tell her...something..."

Crona shivered at the grief in Liz's eyes, fighting the urge to curl up and cower away from the girl in front of them, "I'm sorry…"

Something broke in Liz's eyes and Crona couldn't help but flinch, "So she's— So she's just mindlessly swimming around in there?"

Crona startled at the pain that leaked into her voice and felt their heart plunge into their stomach acid. It felt like the burning inside of their body was going to bubble over and cook them from the inside out. Crona felt frozen to the core and burning hot at the same time, icy fire prickling all of their nerves. This was the engulfing guilt that they expected would come to haunt them. This was only a sliver of the righteous punishment they deserved. And they couldn't even make reparations to Liz… They couldn't even try to fix it because…

"I—I don't have them anymore. I'm sorry." Crona apologized wobbily, "I would try if I could, but—they're all gone... I'm sorry…"

Liz's faced dropped in confusion, "You don't….have them anymore?

Crona shook their head, "No... Lord Death took them all from me. I think he has them in his custody."

"O-oh," the rest of Liz deflated, "I guess never mind then."

Crona didn't ease up, "Liz?"

Liz seemed to struggle with the decision to answer Crona or not, lips twitching with unspoken words, and then turned to Crona again, "That ghost you took on the ship… I wanted to tell her thank you and ask if she was alright."

As Crona floundered in an attempt to give a response, Liz let out an irritated groan and she shook her head, "I'm sorry, Crona, I shouldn't have brought that up."

"N-no…" Crona countered meekly, "I did some horrible things… And hurt people you care about. You shouldn't be the one apologizing to me."

"No, no, I should be. Maka explained it. I know it's not your fault. Even that day on the Nidhogg, I knew." Liz explained, "But Kid… tried to make me angry again by bringing it up today. It was unfair of him."

A somersault flipped in Crona's stomach at the mention of Death the Kid. They didn't have a good run-in yesterday, Crona knew, but they were sort of hoping that his vitriol would stay between the two of them. But that didn't make much sense in hindsight. Why would Death the Kid keep his suspicion to himself?

"I don't think it is." Crona rebutted, "You all should remember the bad things I've done. He's right to remind you all not to forgive me so easily."

Liz leaned against the clothing rack, ignoring how the hangers pushed into her side, "I'm not angry with him about that necessarily… Like, I get how skeptical he's being because he wasn't there for Maka's introduction. But… he used that reminder to hurt me. He wanted to make me sad to try and get me on his side. So I was mad at him for that."

Crona blinked owlishly at that information. They thought that if Death the Kid had voiced his suspicion to Liz, one of the people closest to him, that she'd support his side immediately. The thought that Liz still decided to trust them was surprising. Even more though, Death the Kid tried to make Liz sad to get her on his side? That… didn't sit well.

"Oh…" Crona muttered.

"Yeah." Liz grumbled, "I mean, he apologized for it, so whatever. But I can't believe he got me to make you uncomfortable. So, uh, sorry, again."

"It's okay, Liz, I wouldn't blame you even if it was your idea to bring it up." Crona awkwardly reassured.

Liz suddenly laughed just as awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head and waving her other hand dismissively, "Alright, alright, let's put this whole thing behind us! I don't want things to get weird just because Kid decided to be a jerk."

Crona's eyebrows knotted in confusion.

Liz gave them a gentle smile, "You don't have to worry about it."

Crona regarded her briefly but then nodded, "Okay, if you say so, Liz."

"Ah! Well now I'm beat! That conversation took it out of me!" she promptly supplied, stretching her arms above her, "Let's get Patty out of trouble and then out of here, yeah?"

Just as Crona was about to question how she knew what Patty was up to, a crash and laughter from the other side of the store made its way to their ears.

The tension finally eased out of Crona's body, and a relieved smile turned up at the corner of their mouth, "Yeah."

.

It was a necessary conversation, Crona supposed, and they were glad that it all ended well. But remembering the first part of their conversation still gave Crona shivers.

Crona was broken from their thoughts by the sound of a quiet _thump_ at their right. Turning their head to look at what caused the noise, they couldn't see anything to their side until another small noise brought their eyes downward. Near their right hip was a distinct shape shifting around the soft blankets.

"Gecko," the shape croaked, "that window was higher than I expected."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may not have written as much this week, but there's still some new art on the tumblr lol


	5. Crash Here If It's Cool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoopsie, lol. I promise I didn't intend to take several weeks to upload this chapter. The week it was intended to come out, I was dealing with wild fire evacuation stuff in my city, and the week after that I wanted to recoup from that emotional rollercoaster. After that, I just kinda got swept up in regular capitalistic drudgery. Hopefully I don't skip out on that many weeks again (any time soon at least!) .

"E-Eruka!"

A full-grown woman suddenly popped into existence next to them, landing heavily on the bed, and the coils of the mattress squeaked indignantly from the unexpected weight. Smoothing out her dotted dress and righting the hat atop her head, Eruka turned to Crona with a smug smile.

"So this is where you were," the witch greeted, "I was a little afraid you didn't make it out."

"N-no, I got out fine." Crona sputtered, still taken aback by Eruka's appearance.

"I'm glad it was you instead of her!" Eruka chimed, patting her stomach happily, "I can't tell you how satisfying it was to feel all the wriggling inside of me stop."

Crona nodded mutely.

Eruka leaned onto one of her hands and crossed one of her legs over the other, "I am actually glad, ribbit. Medusa was a horrible witch. I can't imagine having her as a mother."

Crona squeezed their pillow closer to their chest, unsure how to respond.

"It was frustrating to watch," Eruka shook her head shamefully, "watching how she treated you. But now she's gone."

The bed jostled as Eruka pushed herself straight and turned Crona's direction, a bright shine in her eyes and a smile on her face, "And so that's why I'm breaking you out. Getting free from Medusa only to get caught by the DWMA? I can't let that happen in good conscience to one of my kin! Even if I'm risking my hide to be here."

"What?" Crona choked.

Eruka bounced off of the bed and eyed the window from her position, "Ribbit, it'll take a little bit of work without magic, but we can both get through there."

Finally grasping that Eruka came to rescue them from presumed imprisonment, Crona placed the pillow to their side so that they could stand in front of the strategizing witch. Just as she was about to start pulling the dresser over to the window, Crona grasped at Eruka's sleeve to stop her.

"E-Eruka…" They ran different explanations through their mind to try and find the best one to use, "You… don't have to break me out."

Eruka huffed at that, "Now's not the time to be morose and give in to your fate, I'm trying to help you."

"It's not that," Crona's heart started speeding up as they realized they were going to mention their new loyalty to the DWMA to a witch, "it's just… I'm a student here now."

Eruka's face pulled in disgust, "Is that the lie they gave you?"

"It's true!" they proclaimed, squeezing at Eruka's sleeve tighter, "They—They let me in. They want me here."

Eruka jerked her sleeve away from Crona's grasp. She looked at Crona with blistering eyes before her expression melted into something sadder, creases digging between her eyebrows and at the corner of her lips.

"So you're going to be hunting us down now?" she muttered.

"No! That's not what's happening." Crona exclaimed, horrified, "I'm just defeating kishin eggs… those are inconvenient for everyone, even witches…"

Eruka scoffed, "You need to take a witch's soul to become a death scythe."

"I—I'm not trying to make a Death Scythe." Crona defended, "I won't need to… do that."

Nothing changed in Eruka's expression, "But you're fine with being friends with the people that hunt us down?"

"They—They don't—Medusa is the kind of witch that DWMA hunts down." Crona tripped, trying to forget Maka's lighthearted story about how she and Soul tried to kill Blair, "Someone like Medusa… you wanted her dead too."

"I wanted Medusa dead because she was a threat to all of us!" Eruka hissed, shoulders raising like hackles, "DWMA wants witches dead if they so much as exist!"

Eruka walked around Crona, heels clicking loudly in the otherwise silent room, and sat down on the edge of the bed. She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them tightly. Crona hesitated for a second, but they shuffled slowly over to Eruka and sat beside her. Eruka's eyes flickered over to them, eyebrows drawn tight, and then squeezed her legs even closer to her.

"They're going to be hunting us down soon." Eruka whispered hoarsely, "With the Kishin revived, the madness in the air is so thick that it's making everyone's magic stronger. It's making everyone… restless."

Crona waited for Eruka to continue.

"It feels so good right now. The most magic I've ever felt is in me, and all the madness in the air makes me want to—" Eruka gave a dry laugh and then buried her head into her knees with a soft croak, "Ribbit, I could cause destruction miles wide if I wanted to. And I do want to, it'd be a lot of fun. The problem is that I know a lot of other witches are feeling the same thing. But when that happens, people start getting put on lists. Your lists. The normally quiet witches are going to start popping up on DWMA's radar, witches who don't hurt people but just want a little bit of fun."

Eruka lifted her head and looked at Crona sympathetically, "And I don't want that to be you too..."

With a cock of their head, Crona's eyebrows scrunched together questioningly, "Eruka…"

"Everyone knows it in the coven," Eruka strangled out through her teeth, "how much madness Medusa pumped into you. You're the most likely of all of us to snap."

Something hot and sharp ran a course through Crona's body, jerking their spine straight, and setting their eyebrows with irritation rather than confusion, "You … think I'm a liability."

"Kind of." Eruka answered bluntly, "But that's not why I'm here. I'm not here to bust you out because I think you're going to give witches a bad reputation, we've already got that. I'm here to bust you out because I don't want them to hurt you when you snap."

"How do you know that I will?" Crona mumbled tersely, "Lord Death has noticed that my madness has dropped since Maka helped me."

Eruka's eyes narrowed at Maka's name, quiet for a moment as clues clicked into place, and then glowered at the wall opposite of her, "Whatever. Even with her, your madness is going to get bad again, and probably worse than it was before."

The set of Crona's jaw tightened at Eruka's words. As much as they had hoped Medusa's influence could start to take a backseat as they tried to integrate into DWMA, Crona knew the fear that they'd spiral into madness again was reasonable.

"What's even worse," Eruka muttered and began to chew at the pad of her thumb, "is that I know Medusa never trained your magic."

Crona frowned, "...I don't have magic. If the madness is making people with magic restless, then it shouldn't affect me as badly."

Eruka rolled her eyes, "You're Medusa's biological kid, right?"

"...yes." Crona answered slowly.

"Then you have magic." Eruka stated, and an annoyed croak escaped her, "And if you haven't been using it until now, it's only a matter of time before it bursts out. That would be bad on a normal day, but now it will just be catastrophic. For you, anyway, ribbit."

Eruka's theory passed ineffectively over Crona. Theoretically, sure, Crona could have some magical ability that Medusa had refused to acknowledge for the convenience of only training them to use the black blood, but evidence of any magic they had would have shown up by now. Even more, if witches were feeling the effects of the Kishin, then Crona should have felt some agitation themself in the past few days.

"I really think I don't have magic." Crona mumbled, picking at a loose thread under their fingers, "It would have shown up by now. And even if the madness makes me bad again… I have Maka to help me with it."

"Medusa was the cleverest person I ever had the misfortune of knowing." Eruka grumbled, "She definitely could have found a way to bury your magic. There's no way you could just not have it."

Crona shrugged, unsure what to say. It really didn't even make sense to them why Medusa would want to stifle any magic they had, seeing how it could have strengthened their fighting if they trained it properly.

"If you've never felt any evidence of magic and Medusa had been keeping it from you, that means that if it ever shows you'll release a lot of built-up energy." Eruka's voice had a nervous shake to it, "And then they'll kill you."

The arm closest to Crona unwrapped from Eruka's leg and a gentle hand settled on their arm, "Come to the coven. We can make sure that nothing bad happens to you."

The pleading look etched on Eruka's face stirred something deep in Crona's gut, a desperate ache to take Eruka up on her offer. The weird amount of concern that this witch was showing them painfully reminded Crona how much they craved care and protection. Maybe it was superficial obligation for Eruka to offer her help now, once the threat of Medusa was gone and only because Eruka perceived Crona as kin. Had this offer come to them before Maka reached them, Crona would have hungrily took it. But this offer hadn't come earlier, and Maka's outstretched hand was selfless and in Crona's personal interest. It wasn't really a competition for whose community Crona was going to commit themself to.

Crona slid their arm out from Eruka's clasp, apology written all over their face, "Eruka, I… I'm sorry. I don't think I can…"

Eruka looked disappointed but not surprised. Her hand faltered in the air briefly before she snatched it back to her side, her face quickly pinching together with frustration.

"I—! Urgh!" She ruffled at her hair aggressively under her hat, "I can't just sit back and let us lose another witch!"

Crona fought the urge to rub away the warm left from the hand on their arm, feeling guilty about the ghost of Eruka's offer. They stayed motionless while Eruka continued with some more frazzled movements, agitated croaks leaving her throat every so often between her fidgeting. With an audible huff, Eruka swiveled to Crona.

"Ribbit, will you at least let me visit?"

"What?" Crona asked, taken aback by the question.

"So that I can try to train you in magic." Eruka explained hotly, "If you won't come to the coven, I can at least try to keep your magic from blowing up in your face, ribbit."

Taking in a slow breath, Crona weighed the request. It was a risk to have Eruka visit them, she would be compromising herself each time she put foot into DWMA, and it's likely that her efforts would build into nothing since Crona was more than fairly certain that they didn't harbor magic, no conspiracy involved. However, it was hard to deny the pull of the opportunity. Eruka's concern wrapped around Crona like a blanket on their shoulders and they wanted to tug it around them closer, even if it ended in disappointment for both of them.

"Okay." Crona answered softly.

Though conflict still stirred in their stomach, they couldn't help the upward tick of their mouth when they saw the victorious smile blossom on Eruka's face.

* * *

Feeling the breeze run through her hair, Eruka took in a deep breath of the warm night air as she rode on the back of Tadpole Jackson, reveling in the buzzing undercurrent that swirled around her. Her magic thrummed excitedly under her skin from the invisible energy that the Kishin pulsed into the atmosphere. Anxiety sat in the back of her mind for the future, but right now she pushed those thoughts aside to appreciate the rarity of the energy in her system.

Well on the outside of Death City, Eruka swept her eyes over the empty expanse of desert in front of her and flicked an experimental hand out. One of her usual bombs generated into the palm of her hand, but despite its normal size, the electricity radiating off of it sent tingles up her arm. She shot it to the side as far as she could manage, and Eruka watched it arc through the air and held her breath for the long second it took for it to hit its mark and detonate.

Eruka could only watch the first half of its destruction before the shockwave of its explosion rippled through the air and smacked into her hard enough that Tadpole Jackson swerved and had to work to keep her upright on his back. Catching her hat before it disappeared from her head, Eruka blinked away the gust of sand from her eyes and observed her impact. The blistering crater left from her bomb was impressive, and she could hear the small tinkles of glass from the sand that got too hot from the explosion.

A giddy giggle left her mouth in shock, and Eruka tamped down the temptation to see just how much destruction she could manage because she'd likely end up as one of the smithereens. The anxiety that was sitting in the back of her mind pushed its way to the front and she chewed on her lip. The coven was going to have to discuss some major restrictions to keep everyone off the radar. Well, keep most of them off the radar anyway, since no doubt some of the witches were going to get cocky. Her thoughts jumped back to Crona curled up in the lap of DWMA. Magic or not, Crona was going to face repercussions from the growing madness. And if Crona had magic like Eruka thought they did, she needed to make sure that they could keep it under control.

After her experiment, Eruka made the rest of her way home trying to ignore the pulse of energy that begged her to wreak havoc, and it was a relief when she finally stopped in front of her humble abode. Sliding off of Tadpole Jackson, Eruka murmured happy praises to him and pet his smooth side, and he responded to her praise and affection with some happy trills. With one last goodnight, Eruka dissipated the magical familiar and entered the front door. Eruka stretched her arms above her head as she stepped into the entryway and let the door closed behind her.

"Welcome back."

Sprawled on a couch that was far too small for him was Free. Ever since she was forced to rescue him, Eruka had housed him in her living room on Medusa's orders. His huge form definitely couldn't find her couch comfortable, but she couldn't find it in herself to offer the extra room available.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"It could have gone better..." Eruka grumbled, slumping over to the couch and perching herself on the end of a cushion that was open because Free's legs were lifted up onto the armrest.

Eruka sat her elbows onto her knees and rested her head in her hands, "They're a part of DWMA now."

Eruka could feel the way Free bristled from his legs at her back, "Shit, really?"

A slow nod and a disenchanted croak, "They turned me down."

"Damn…" she could hear the scratch of Free rubbing the back of his neck, "And they really believe that horseshit?"

Eruka pushed up her head and leaned back onto Free's calves, sending a disgruntled look to the ceiling, "I think it's for real, ribbit."

"For real?"

"I don't think they register Crona as a witch," Eruka explained, "and they're just the right age that they probably saw them as a new recruit more than as a threat."

"But they fucked their shit up a couple of times didn't they?" Free asked, "What made 'em decide that was a free pass?"

"Something about that pig-tail girl we've run into," Eruka pouted, "I guess she and Crona came to a truce and that's all they needed to decide to brush it all under the rug."

Free clicked his tongue and bumped Eruka gently with his knee, "Sorry."

"It wasn't all a loss," Eruka sighed, "They agreed that I could visit every once in a while to train their magic."

"You sure?" Free questioned, "I'd have written them off."

Eruka ground her teeth and grumbled, "We're nearly extinct. I'm not letting another one of my kin get taken by Lord Death."

"It seems like they already have been, though." Free stated.

Eruka nibbled at her thumb angrily, "I know. But with the Kishin resurrected, everyone is going to be more at risk. You, me, the other witches, and Crona, ribbit. They haven't trained their magic at all, so they're going to slip up. When that happens, DWMA will turn on them, and then they'll realize their real place is at the coven."

With a grunt, Free sat up and adjusted his position so that he was sitting beside Eruka. She paused her chewing on her thumb and peered at him from her peripherals. His face stretched into a comfortable grin and Free adjusted the hat atop her head so that it wouldn't slip off her tilted head.

"Well, you got your foot in the door." Free assured, "All you can do is wait until the shit starts to hit the fan and just make sure the kid knows who to look to when it does."

Eruka measured his reassuring grin and softened, plopping the rest of herself into his side and allowing his warmth to cascade over her. "Ribbit… I guess you're right."

With the main conversation coming to a close, conversation between the two drifted and branched. It webbed and flowed from casual subjects back to concerns about the Kishin and DWMA, but the steadiness of their words ensured that the atmosphere stayed relaxed. As the night grew later, talk grew more relaxed, and Eruka appreciated the easy conversation and laughter that bounced between her and Free, and she increasingly appreciated the comfort of the heat that rolled off of his body.

Eventually, as the hour became too late to ignore, Free let out a jaw-cracking yawn and Eruka let out a small puff of laughter and suggested they should both go to bed. At his bleary agreement, she lifted herself up from the couch and Free immediately settled back into laying down. His eyes were already closed as he nestled into a semi-comfortable position and Eruka watched him for a moment. They'd only known each other for a few weeks, but Free had quickly become a natural part of her day to day life. Even apart from their forced participation in Medusa's schemes, Eruka found most of their time alongside each other. Breathing out another amused huff, Eruka walked past Free to make way to her room a little ways away.

Something stopped her from completing the journey, however. In between the distance from the couch to the door to her room, Eruka faltered and looked back at Free. The shift of his head meant that he heard her sudden stop, but he didn't question it. Eruka chewed on her lip, deliberating. Her eyes flickered to the door across from hers and then back to the man draped on her couch.

"Ribbit...Can I ask you a question?"

Free took a moment to sleepily roll onto his side so he could see her easier, "Yeah, sure."

"Now that Medusa is gone… What are you going to do? What are your plans?"

He let out a thoughtful hum, "I hadn't thought about it yet. I used to have an idea about what I would do after I broke out of prison, but at this point it isn't relevant to me anymore. Plus, once I was out, I kinda figured that working for Medusa was just gonna be my new gig. But now that she's kicked the bucket, I'm back at square one for figuring out what I want to do."

Eruka gave a soft noise of acknowledgment, but she didn't say anything else or make a move to leave.

"What about you?" Free asked, "What are your plans?"

"...I don't know either." She replied, "All of the things I would have wanted to do… I can't do anymore. Not since Mizune…"

Free stayed silent. Eruka had only briefly mentioned that Medusa had killed the oldest Mizune sister, but it was obvious that the two were close from the reactions Eruka had every time Mizune was mentioned. It was especially obvious from the way Eruka barred him from the silent room across from her own that she was still in mourning.

"A—Anyway, ribbit, I wanted to know if you had any plans to attend to. Because if you didn't, I was going to offer you a more permanent place here…I know that Medusa forced me to take you in, but now I'm offering you a real residence here. You can take the extra room instead of sleeping on the couch like I told you to."

Free shifted into a seated position after she finished her proposal and tried to catch her eyes, "Oi, Eruka."

She pointedly avoided his gaze and picked at the pad of her thumb, "What, ribbit."

"Not that I don't appreciate the offer," he began, "but are you sure you're okay with it? You were pretty strict about me not using the other room before."

Eruka's lips tightened and she turned her body towards him just a little bit more, "I'm sure. It would be stubborn of me to keep you from using that room for no reason."

Free eyebrows furrowed with doubt, "Bullshit, you definitely have a reason."

"Not a good reason, ribbit." She grimaced, "I shouldn't punish you to the couch anymore. It would have been okay if you were only staying here for a week or two like I initially thought, but if it's going to last longer than that…"

Free spoke a few seconds after Eruka trailed off, "I'll take you up on your offer. I don't have anywhere to go and we've been pretty good roommates so far. But I'm okay with staying on the couch. Anything you offer me is going to be better than the years I've slept in shackles on a cobblestone floor."

"You don't have to try and be considerate of me." Eruka wearily met his eyes, "It won't do me any good to keep it closed off like some sort of tomb."

Free and Eruka kept their eyes locked for a beat until Free let out a deep breath, "Okay. You seem sure about your decision."

"I am." Eruka responded, but Free could see her twisting hands.

"I know you said that I shouldn't try and be considerate of you, but are you sure I can't do that just a little?"

" _Ribbit..._ What do you mean?" Eruka asked suspiciously.

"I wanna tell you that I'm sorry for what happened." Free saw her hands still in surprise, "Medusa did some fucked up stuff to you, and I know it's been hitting you hard. You don't gotta pretend you're handling it better than you are just to front for me. I'm not gonna make fun of you if that's what you're worried about."

Eruka didn't answer for a while. Everything about her was still, even her hands were awkwardly frozen in their previous wringing.

Eventually Eruka met his eyes again, "Thank you, Free."

The two of them exchanged quick, soft smiles, and Eruka turned on her heel and left the room, bidding goodnight with the soft click of her bedroom door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title inspired by Crash Here If It’s Cool by Fast Friends.
> 
> Once I upload the next chapter, I'm combining this with the last chapter, since I originally intended for them to be the same. And uhhh, new art on the tumblr again. Honestly, just assume that I've doodled at least something for each chapter I upload.


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